Birds and One Armed Men
by Maddie Weston
Summary: After being pulled out of ice, she was a different person. She was cold, quiet, distant, trying to piece together the pain she had learned to accept and live with. What she did not expect was some army veteran to want to pull her from the darkness she slipped in, or why the man she once thought dead was now a stranger, looking for her help.
1. Chapter 1 Memories and Museums

**Chapter 1 Memories and Museums**

"Mom… she never got to say goodbye?"

"No honey. She didn't." the teenager and her mother solemnly whispered in front of his memorial plaque. The picture of him and Theresa Jean at Coney Island looked so much better than she remembered it looking. The dog tags… She gently touched the only last piece of him she had in her calloused, warm fingers. She kept her hood and baseball cap on to avoid any recognition from the public, as her picture was right there.

She looked back at his picture one last time. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes… Her heart ached at the mention of his name… all the things she had left unsaid haunting her. It made it impossible to ever love another soul again. She trudged back out into the cool air, grateful to have picked up groceries before her routine weekly visit to the past.

5:45pm. She had about 15 minutes to make it back in order to make her dinner plans. It was her day to cook and she had decided on a london broil. She had used a crock pot for the first time today and left it on for a few hours as instructed since this morning before she had to go on a quick mission. Since being forced into the future, Jean made it a habit to learn as much as she could, especially with cooking and technology. Certain computer programs were still slightly complex and phones… well… those were annoying but made sense. Stark had given Jean more of an up. After the events of New York and being suddenly back in the whole swing of taking orders and going on missions and coming home sore as hell, these dinners were what she looked forward to. If she was lucky and had enough time, she would even sometimes bake cookies like she did back in the day. Jean had to do something, as she wasn't exactly sleeping too well.

How could one expect a only female super soldier to be able to have a clear conscious after what she has seen? She had horrible nightmares. He haunted her every day and night and deep down she felt that he was always watching but she wasn't quick enough to find him… always close but not close enough… like he was still… alive. She shook her head in discontent, her feet hitting the pavement towards her car.

The drive back to the apartment complex was quiet, as usual. Jean found it hard to listen to music… it reminded her so much of him. In fact, the once musician couldn't even touch a piano without feeling that she would burst into tears. Forget about singing because simply, she wouldn't dare. There was pain in listening to music as it would bring her back to those moments when they would dance. This whole new world was so different than before. So much of who she was, died the day that he left her. Not that her identity was James Buchanan Barnes, but that he was her soulmate and to lose someone like that without being able to say how you feel leaves such a place of regret and guilt. The biggest lesson she got from it was of time. So even if she became this reserved, colder human being, and she now never took time for granted. She was still fiercely loyal. It was just that nobody got to see that spitfire personality she used to have.

She soon neared the apartment building, parking next to Steve's motorcycle as she always did. Jean made her way up to the apartment, hearing voices on her hall.

"You could always stop in…" she raised her eyebrows seeing the next door neighbor, blonde and pretty, talking to Rogers. She could feel a pang of sadness swirl around but she was more amused by the situation than anything else. She wasn't sure when Steve was able to speak to women as attempts failed or weren't started. Kate. She looked semi familiar but Jean could never exactly be sure.

"You're late"

"Hi… Kate?" Jean asked calmly, stepping forward slightly. The woman smiled warmly at Jean, reaching for a handshake. Jean took it cautiously, giving the woman a nice slow handshake.

"Uh yes!"

"Jean. Nice to meet you" She pulled away, glancing over at Steve. She smirked, looking between Steve and Kate.

"Dinner is already made." She shook her head moving past him to go into her apartment. She could hear Steve finish off his conversation. She smiled at the delicious smell of the dinner she made.

"Were you over there?"

"It's like clockwork orange Rogers. Your memory shouldn't be going this soon, old man"

"I don't know if that reference works…" She glanced over at him. He was most likely right. She shrugged with a little smile. He closed her door, coming into the kitchen and grabbing the silverware and napkins.

"You can't change the subject"

"You go all the time too" she retorted, avoiding his eye contact. She scooped the delicious meal into the bowls one by one.

"Do you really think Bucky would like to see you like this?"

"There are tiny pieces of him that I have left Steve. These tags, that museum exhibit, the box… that's it."

"Theresa..."

"Steve, do you think I don't know how bad I am?" She snapped a little more harshly than she would have liked. He paused in front of the table, wishing he wouldn't have flustered her like that. The two remaining best friends paused for a moment, staying in place. Jean sighed moving the bowls over to the table and placing them down on each place mat.

"I look forward to dinners and how much we spend time together. It reminds me that I am alive. I do my part for the Avengers for S.H. I. E. L. D., for every other place that calls us. I show up and put everything inside of what I am asked to do, selflessly. But a part of me died on that train with James and no matter how much I try to move on, I can't. Because to me, he's still here, out of reach. I go to the museum, I think I see him. I go to bed, I think he's in the corner of my room. I go to the grocery store, he's there in the next aisle. I am haunted by this idea that he is right there and I'm never quick enough to reach him." Her voice hitched as she sped up through the middle of her monologue, more vulnerable than she had been in a very long time.

Steve was taken aback by this, but selfishly relieved to see her show some form of emotion. It pained him to see her like this. He knew she enjoyed every moment they got to spend together but what happened between her and Buck… now that was an irrevocable pain… the kind of pain that never really leaves a soldier. He wished he could do anything to take that pain from her… He knew there wasn't anything he could say that would fix it, that listening and holding her up when she was down would help. All those years that Bucky and Jean spent protecting him, it was him time to do what he could for her. He knew she was constantly on edge with this nagging feeling that Bucky was still around.

Jean was embarrassed by her outburst, even though she 100% trusted Steve. Steve had faced great loss too. She felt like a burden, putting too much on him. She grabbed two bottles of lemonade, taking a seat at the table, waiting for Steve.

The only music she was forced to endure was when he would put some on, only during dinner. Steve made the volume low enough so that it didn't become too much for Jean. He found his place next to her smiling at the meal. They took hands to give a quick prayer as usual, before diving into the very scrumptious meal.

"This is… so good. I can't believe we used to boil everything"

"I know. It blows my mind"

"What movie are we watching tonight Markette?" She wrinkled her nose at the use of her last name.

"Well, we finished Star Wars last week." He nodded, shoving some food in his mouth.

"I enjoyed it but there were so many movies… and so long. Maybe something that isn't five hours long?"

"Four possible options are: The Breakfast Club, Back to the Future, Dirty Dancing, or Alien" he said pulling out his little notebook. She didn't know much about any of them but bit lip deep in thought, collecting a spoonful of food.

"The Breakfast Club. Supposedly there's a great song at the end and I like breakfast" Jean decided, she took a big gulp of the lemonade, Steve nodding.

"So you want to watch a movie for the ending song?" She smirked shrugging.

"You have a better place to be Rogers?"

"Of course not" he chuckled, continuing their meal.

"We have lunch for the next few days" Steve smiles as the two wash the dishes. As Jean put the dishes away, a wet rag slung over her shoulder, Steve walked over to the music player. He turned the music up a tad, the song immediately reminding her of one…

"Here" Steve whispered with his hand out. She broke from her memories, wishing for one second that they were more than just a memory or even a dream, staring at his outstretched hand. She felt her heart ache as she went to say no.

"If Buck was here, he would want you to dance and you know it" he smiled softly. She shot him a look.

"Guilting me? That isn't very Captain America like" He shrugged. She took his hand frowning. He pulled her into his chest, placing one hand on her hip appropriately high and the other waited patiently open for her hand to meet his. She obliged, not wanting to admit that it was nice to feel another human's warmth, especially her best friend; the person who was with her for everything. They were inseparable, trying to fill the hole that Bucky left. She placed her one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand.

She trusted Steve to be this close. She laid her head on his broad chest, letting her eyes close a little. He moved his hand further to the middle of her back reassuringly, making sure not to lower too far. It was just this moment, that Bucky felt alive. She took a deep breath, letting Steve lead and move her through her living room, her mind drifting someplace else...

**_Flashback_**

_Theresa Jean Markette tugged at the sleeves of the green, fitted dress that her Great Aunt Georgia had gotten her. She cursed the shiny green heels that came along, wishing her Aunt had saved her money. Jean was not big into fancy dresses, anything fitted, or anything girly for that matter._

_She felt like a clown, with her hair pressed reaching down two inches past her shoulders, the mascara and dark lip she had originally felt so confident wearing. Theresa Jean Markette did NOT wear makeup… yet here she was. Her heart was racing as she felt the bus slowing down. She was somehow able to get out of work at the recruitment office tonight an hour early, in order to go to the World Exposition Fair with her two best friends._

_She got off, following the crowd towards the entrance, hoping to spot one of the two. She instantly smiled, seeing the two walking through the crowd._

_"Steve! James!" She called, ignoring how her heart pounded against her chest when she said his name. The two looked back at her, Steve immediately breaking into a huge smile. Bucky stood there, stunned at the dress. He hadn't seen it on her before._

_He felt his cheeks flush red as Steve immediately walked forward to greet her. James instantly cursed his stupidity in inviting two girls to join. In his mind, he never thought he had a chance with Theresa Jean Markette. The dress hugged her at all the perfect places, just showing enough to inform him that she had an incredible body that she hid behind those clothes she always wore… He loved her curls but even though her hair was pressed, it was still pretty. He could see her exposed neck, almost temping him to kiss it. He wanted to discover just how soft that skin was. His heart raced, hoping he wouldn't show any form of… excitement. If she knew how much power she actually had over him he would be toast. She's incredibly beautiful, stubborn, fiery, smart, and clever, all the qualities that made him be undeniably transfixed since he was 12 years old. She was a woman who could and always had put him in his place. He knew they had those moments, he just never had the guts to… yes… James Buchanan Barnes was terrified of Theresa Jean Markette._

_Jean frowned after pulling from Steve's arms, noticing the uniform that Bucky was wearing._

_"What…"_

_"The one-o-seventh. Sergeant James Barnes. Shipping out for England first thing tomorrow" Jean nodded, feeling her heart drop. Bucky pulled her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her body. She felt safe in his arms, clinging a little harder than she would have liked Bucky or even Steve to see._

_"I uh… invited two dames down but I'm going to cancel…" he began, Jean immediately feeling a twinge of annoyance, jealousy, and even a small ounce of anger. Steve couldn't help but smirk sheepishly at the shift in her eyes. There was tension between the two. He wished they would just fuss up already._

_"No. No really, it's fine. Wouldn't want to spoil your last night Buckaroo" she patted his shoulder sarcastically, turning to Steve._

_"Besides, Steve and I will just slip off eventually anyways, the broads you usually pick up are…hmm… how do I say this… boring" Steve stifled a laugh as Bucky shot her a look. She turned away, trying to hide her frustration. She was hurt… no matter how much she was in love with him, no matter how much she wanted to be his girl, they just never took that step._

_"Theresa…"_

_"Bucky!" a high pitched voice called off in the distance. A shorter brunette with fair skin, fair flawless skin jumped up and down looking like an idiot. Jean was annoyed and had no plan to hide this annoyance. She felt so stupid and so self-conscious. She began to think that she wasn't beautiful enough for him. She cursed inwardly at herself, swearing to not show an ounce of emotion. This failed as Jean stood there, eye cocked at an angle, her jaw clenched tight. She clenched her right fist, hiding it behind her back. Now… what would be so wrong if Bucky and both dames ACCIDENTALLY fell into her… fist?_

_Bucky greeted the girls, one blonde, another HUGE surprise. She wanted to curse Bucky out but she couldn't help but feel as if to blame as well… tomorrow he was leaving and her heart ached. He wanted to spend his last night with… them? Really?!_

_"Connie and Bonnie… this is Steve Rogers and Jean Markette" they looked so disappointed at Steve and her._

_"Oh… James, I thought you said a double date? What is she doing here?" Jean didn't like that comment. Who was this heifer to talk to Buck like that? Before Bucky could say a word, or Steve could prevent Jean from retorting to that comment, Jean's mouth flew open._

_"Sorry about that girls. I won't get in your way, I promise! Oh my goodness, love that dress by the way. That was totally in style last year right? On Glamour? Or was that the year before?" Jean mocked a higher pitched voice, Steve holding in a hysterical laugh._

_"Doesn't matter though. Those geezer color tones work for all seasons." the friend gasped as the brunette frowned. Steve cracked up, trying to cover it by clearing his throat._

_She ignored Bucky's eye contact as she walked on the other side of Steve. The unlikely group moved towards the Stark Expo. Even though the whole situation was tense and a brush off, Jean did look forward to seeing Howard Stark and his inventions. Jean was intrigued by weapons, engineering, and technology._

_"Welcome to the Modern Marvels Pavilion and the World of Tomorrow. A greater world. A better world." the expo announcer called._

_"Oh, my God! It's starting!" Jean rolled her eyes at Connie as she clunge to Bucky's arm. She was embarrassed to be this jealous because it was partially her fault that it wasn;t her arm connected to his. At the same time, she didn't see him making a move towards her. There was a decent crowd, excitement floating around._

_"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Howard Stark!" the attractive woman called, as Howard entered the stage with that heavy charisma Jean heard so much about. Howard Stark was attractive in a genius sort of way, but he wasn't particularly Jean's type. It seemed Jean's type was the chicken shit, clueless, blue eyed boys who preferred fair skinned, stick figured, mouse-like wom…_

_A gentle elbow nudge broke Jean from her angering thoughts of self doubt as Steve shot her an apprehensive look. Steve knew that Theresa Jean was, although beautiful, especially self conscious, self doubting, and utterly stubborn. He knew that Bucky wasn't trying to hurt her at all, in fact, Steve knew that these two headstrong individuals were absolutely head over heels in love with each other. He found it both frustrating and entertaining that the two hadn't already caved in and cracked. If he would have known that Bucky was trying to set him up on a date, he would have tried warning Bucky that Jean was coming after getting off of work. How would he know that it would end up like this._

_"I love you, Howard!" the outburst from a woman in the crowd distracting what was happening. Howard Stark took the microphone, addressing the audience._

_"Ladies and gentlemen, what if I told you that in just a few short years, your automobile won't even have to touch the ground at all." he said in his almost arrogant, but dreamer way. The female helpers took the wheels off the flashy car on stage. Jean's eyes widened in excitement and awe, distracted briefly from her own inner arguments. Bucky couldn't help but glance over at her, trying to hide the admiration in his eyes. She looked so alluring whenever she got transfixed by something. Her eyes would light up a room._

_"Yes. Thanks, Mandy." Stark said before turning to the audience once again._

_"With Stark robotic reversion technology, you'll be able to do just that." with a switch of his machine, the car started to hover off the ground. Jean's mouth dropped practically to the floor._

_"Holy cow" her and Bucky muttered at the same moment, causing the two to briefly catch each other's eyes. She broke eye contact, quickly looking away. The robots making the car hover suddenly malfunctioned, the car falling back on stage causing the audience to yelp._

_"I did say a few years, didn't I?" Stark jokes sheepishly earning a few laughs from the crowd. Steve nudged Jean, motioning to follow him. She glanced back over at James once more, defeated, nodding and following Steve as they slipped away. Jean knew where Steve was taking her and she didn't mind._

_There was a recruitment center nearby and although she greatly disapproved of Steve's lying and trying to put himself in direct fire, she sadly understood way too well of his frustrations. If she were a man and allowed, she would have been over there a hell of a lot quicker. The only way she could was if she applied for a nursing position and while tempting and a respectable job, that wasn't a passion._

_She was more of the, hands on kind of gal. She was the girl who would go in swinging in order to protect Steve and Bucky. Steve walked to see himself in the mirror. Jean couldn't help but feel sad._

_"Come on. You're kind of missing the point of tonight. We're taking the girls dancing…" James began, wincing at his words and the facial expression on Jean's face._

_"You go ahead. We'll catch up with you." Steve said, stunned by Bucky's words. Bucky almost appeared… annoyed?_

_"You're really gonna do this again? You're really gonna let him do this?" Jean raised her eyebrows at his tone. Bucky wasn't one to raise his voice, but Jean knew that Bucky was worried about Steve._

_"I'm to blame?" Jean snapped crossing her arms._

_"Well, it's a fair. I'm gonna try my luck." Steve interjected, quickly trying to dilute the tension._

_"As who? Steve from Ohio? They'll catch you. Or worse, they'll actually take you." Bucky continued, looking at Jean for support, even after his snap._

_"Look, I know you don't think I can do this." Jean shifted as Steve spoke up._

_"This isn't a back alley, Steve. It's war!"_

_"He knows it's a war. You don't have to tell him." Jean broke in, snapping a little harder than she anticipated. Bucky shot Jean another look of annoyance. Jean sighed, rolling her eyes. What she didn't need on his last night was to be fighting with him, even after he chose random dames over her…_

_Jean moved away from the two. She walked to the opposite end of the room, lifting up a brochure on the important role of women in war. She shook her head, showing displeasure. Women can be ready to help after the bullets fly… blah blah blah…_

_"Not your style of helping is it?" a male voice spoke out to Jean, making her jump from the disturbance of her thoughts. She looked up to see an older man, only a little taller than her, wearing a white lab coat. He had round glasses on, graying hair and a genuine smile._

_"Excuse me?" she asked cautiously, self conscious at the attention he was showing her. This was a room filled with people, why stop at her? He motioned towards the brochure she was holding._

_"Oh… this? No… no… not my style sir" she shook her head, placing the pamphlet back down, inwardly surprised she had even picked it up in the first place._

_"What is your style then?" She was surprised he was considering her opinion on anything and still speaking to her. He looked as if he most likely had more important people to talk to._

_"My style?" She asked, bewildered by the conversation. He waited patiently, holding direct eye contact with her as she thought for a moment._

_"If I had the ability to have a style… I protect… I don't like bullies. I don't care where they're from. I would put myself before the lives of others" Jean muttered, shaking her head as her voice got quiet._

_"But my opinion doesn't matter much… it's not like I can do much…" She quickly added, feeling nervous from my previous vulnerability. He smirked a little, shaking his head._

_"I disagree miss… What is your name?"_

_"Jean. Theresa Jean Markette." he nodded smiling. He put his hand out towards mine._

_"Dr. Abraham Erskine. I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve." Jean's eyes squinted slightly. She knew she had heard of it before, but was cautious to express this._

_"I sense you do a lot of protecting" he commented, glancing over at Bucky and Steve. Jean glanced over in his direction of eyesight and cracked a gentle smile shaking her head. Dr. Erskine patted her arm before whisking away._

_"Hey, Sarge! Are we going dancing?" Connie's voice cut through. It was a knife through the heart. Jean sighed looking back over at Bucky as he looked directly at her._

_"Uh… Yes, we are." he called, looking back at the pair of his friends. He wanted to either pounce on her or shake Jean. He wanted to pull her away from all this but he was bothered. Why was she always slinking off with Steve? Why was she so… irresistible… Jean looked away, feeling a lump growing in her throat. She heard the two bidding each other goodbye._

_"Jerk. Be careful. Don't win the war till I get there!" Steve said, patting his back. Bucky looked over at Jean, slowly making his way to her._

_"Do you want to come?" he asked carefully. He could see her guards soaring up and he cursed himself inwardly._

_"Dancing? With your two dames? No… I actually think I will pass" Bucky sighed, shifting back and forth uncomfortably. There were many things James Buchanan Barnes was, but utterly speechless was not one of them… unless it involved her._

_"Theresa… come on…" she looked at him angrily, regretful of time she felt she wasted. At this point she was crushed._

_"Bucky?" the girl called again. Although she wanted to grab and shake the guy, Jean paused taking a deep breath._

_"I'm going to turn in for the night…" Jean glanced over at Steve before looking back at Bucky, forcing a fake reassuring smile._

_"No really… I feel tired anyways… I don't want to be a drag on your evening plans." She spoke quietly, looking up into his stunning blue eyes. A million words could be said in this moment… a million words she wanted to say. She could feel tears threaten to fill her big eyes but she took a deep breath._

_"Listen to me jerk, you better come home James Buchanan Barnes… Please come home…" she snapped, her voice was strained ever so slightly as she pulled him forward for a hug._

_"Back to me" Jean whispered with one strand of confidence, before pulling prematurely away. Bucky's eyes widened ever so slightly at the comment. Back to her… She lightly grazed his hand before walking past him. She refused to let anyone see her cry… if he saw her cry, that would mean she meant more than what she said… which she did. She walked past Steve, walked past the two broads waiting for James, and didn't stop walking. She heard her name being called but continued walking. Hot tears stained her rosy cheeks as she whisked away into the night._

_James watched as Theresa Jean walk off into the night, cursing inwardly at himself. Back to her? Did that mean what he wanted it to mean?_

_"You ready Bucky?" Bucky looked over at the two dames. They were attractive but was it worth losing this fragile moment with Theresa? No._

_"Sorry dolls, looks like I need a raincheck"_

_As Theresa Jean walked down the lively street, she wiped away her tears. The hardest thing was to walk away from Bucky. She saw couples holding hands, kissing, walking to bars to drink and dance… She wanted so badly to do that with him. It was as if the world was moving so fast all around her. She began to hum a tune that reminded her so much of him. She rounded the corner, going the more secretive and safe way home._

_"You made me want to, And all the time you knew it, I guess you always knew it, You made me happy, Sometimes you made me glad, But there were time baby, You made me feel so bad" She sang to herself, her beautiful voice carrying through the alleyway._

_"You made me cry cause, I didn't want to tell you, I didn't want to tell you, I want some love that's true, Yes I do, deed I do, you know I do, Gimmie gimmie gimmie gimmie what I cry for, You know you got the kind of kisses that I die for, You know you made me love you" Jean twirled, dancing under the street lights. As Jean sang, she thought of him, what it would feel like to lie next to him… or be kissed by him…_

_"I always loved that song" his voice cut through the night air, scaring her. Jean jumped, letting out an ear piercing scream. She saw Bucky standing a few feet away, laughing hysterically._

_"Gosh Dammit James Buchanan Barnes!" She yelled, making her way over to the laughing man._

_"I'm sorry doll… I didn't think I would scare you" he said through his fits of laughter. She couldn't help but crack a tiny smile, hitting his arm playfully._

_"You almost gave me a heart attack… what are you doing here?" she asked giving him a hopeful look. She felt her heartbeat start pounding a little more, her cheeks flushing a red hot crimson color. Bucky shifted nervously, rubbing the back of his head._

_"I wanted to go out dancing with my girl. Not some random dames." He reached his hand out, hoping she would take it. She shot him a look, pausing before she took his hand, knowing he was trying to gain back some points._

_"Where are we going?" She asked, gingerly letting him take her hand into his._

_"Anywhere you want" He felt his heart pounding as he took her hand, feeling the softness of her thin, elegant fingers. She felt vulnerable._

_"I do want to get these shoes off…" she smiled, squeezing his hand._

_"Alright then doll… let's go" he pulled her arm so it wrapped safely in his._

_The two reached the rundown apartment of Jean, Bucky picking up the mail, chuckling. Jean always had flowers around the front door. She wanted to add some form of color to the world._

_"You never remember the mail"_

_"That's why I need you"_

_As Jean slipped her shoes off, she could hear him in her living room putting on music, specifically Harry James and Helen Forrest, one of their favorites. She looked in the mirror, taking a deep breath._

_This was the moment… this was the moment they needed in order to face what they felt. She walked into the room, seeing him pulling off his new military jacket. He glanced over at her smiling._

_"I didn't tell you earlier… because I was nervous…"_

_"James Buchanan Barnes, nervous?" she interrupted with a smirk, pretending to be dramatically shocked._

_"You look beautiful." he smiled. She felt her face flush red. She took his outstretched hand. He spun her into him, her back bracing against the front of his firm body. They moved in sync, letting the music take them away. She stayed with her back to his front for a moment longer, his lips dangerously close to the curve of her neck where neck meets shoulders. His warm breath danced across her skin._

_His heart raced… she smelled so good… so intoxicating. His lips barely grazed the bare skin, causing her to gasp. A warmth spread through both of their bodies, an unspoken electricity in the room. She turned in his arms, placing one hand against his chest, the other in his hand. She looked like a damn deer in headlights. They were extremely close to each other. His hand on her hip dipped a little, sending shivers down her spine. He hummed with the music into her ear, as he had always done whenever he had the courage to twirl her around. She couldn't help but shakily breath. She looked up at him, her hands beginning to shake. She refused to run away this time though…_

_"Can I ask you a question doll?"_

_"Yes" she croaked out, clearing her throat, leaning her head against his chest._

_"What did you mean, come back to me?" Jean bit her lip. She took a deep breath, looking up._

_"I don't know what I would do without you… I need you to come home okay?" tears welled up in her eyes. She shook her head. A tear escaped. Bucky lifted his hand, wiping it away._

_She pulled away from him, nervously._

_"Uh… ha… would you like a drink?" Jean cleared her throat again. Before Jean could walk away, he grabbed her arm gently._

_"You are what I want to come home to" his words soared through her as if it were a dream. He pulled her into him. He was so close, she went a little cross eyed as she began to panic. If Steve were here to see how pansy she was being._

_"I beg to differ. That's a little corny for you, ain't it Barnes" she joked, loudly, laughing awkwardly as she backed away from him, giving distance. What the hell was she doing? She was in full, try to save face, act like a touch dame, mode._

_"Why are you so nervous Theresa?" Bucky found her change in body language and state both absurd and entertaining. He fought hard not to laugh at the situation. He busts him for bringing two broads (still a bad decision), gives him that little last minute comment that would always make him question everything._

_"Nervous? No. I don't get nervous." Jean challenged back, crossing her arms._

_"Then don't run from me doll" he stated softly. He took a careful step to her. Jean's heart was pounding wildly against her chest. She knew Bucky's game… he was a smooth talker, good with the ladies. This was different. He wasn't approaching her as he had with others._

_He moved in, placing one hand on both sides of her neck. He carefully, and ever so gingerly pulled her in. She raised her trembling hands, grasping the front of his military issued jacket. Their warm breaths mingling. She sucked in a deep, closing her eyes for a brief moment to calm her nerves. She opened her eyes, looking directly into his eyes._

_He pressed his lips against hers, warmth and passion coursing through their veins. It began cautiously at first, the pent up energy from years of wanting this all being fixed in a moment, but their kiss became more sensual. Their lips moved rhythmically as if they knew what to do, goosebumps breaking out across her arms. They pulled away for a breath, the energy in the atmosphere, intoxicating. Bucky rested his forehead against hers._

_"You're a punk, you know that?" she whispered, winded. Bucky cracked a smile. Butterflies were soaring through Jean's stomach and for the first time, she didn't even care._

_"Why did you invite those two…"_

_"It was stupid"_

_"Yes. Yes it was" Jean quipped back poking him in the chest. Still cupping her face, he kissed her again, his lips so soft._

_"Stay tonight… please" she whispered. He held her face, looking at her deeply._

_"I'm not going anywhere doll"_

**_End of flashback_**

She pulled away, giving a genuine small smile. She didn't want to show that tears were threatening to fall, the moment almost too much for her.

"Go grab the movie Cap, or we are going to be up all night and you know we have to go running early tomorrow."

"Theresa"

"I'm okay" she nodded reassuringly, although she needed a moment to herself. Steve knew not to press, even though he wanted so badly to grab and hug her.

"I'll be right back" he said before walking out. She made her way to the bathroom, clinging to the dog tags. She braced herself on the sink counter, letting a few tears fall as she tried not to shake. She counted up and down in her head, trying to slow her heartbeat.

She looked back in the mirror seeing her appearance and focusing for the first time in awhile. She sighed, wiping the tears away, pulling her hair up into a low, loose bun, a hairstyle that wasn't big when she was… in the 40s. She was grateful though, as some of those 40s hairstyles were a pain in the ass.

In general, the current time period was a lot more open minded about a lot of things… (eh hem race and females). It wasn't such a surprise for her to be a super soldier superhero… the subject change in her mind helped her not have a complete and utter break down and she cursed herself for her inner monologues. Changing out of her clothes after swiftly washing her face and brushing her teeth, she put the shirt and sweatpants on, hearing her apartment door close, signaling that he was back.

It looked like she had gotten emotional but she knew Steve wouldn't press too hard. When they first got out he did a lot… but as time went on, he didn't go for the jugular as often. She grabbed her pillow and a throw blanket as she usually did, making her way towards the light in the living room. She noticed Steve had already put the movie in, positioning himself on the couch as he waited for her to join him at his side.

He sometimes wondered what would have happened if her and Bucky would have not been so in love with each other, except the thought was always fleeting and short lived. Theresa Jean Markette was undeniably a beautiful woman, but she was his best friend, a sister to him, and he honestly didn't think that he would have ever been able to come out of the ice without her. Throughout his life, she was the second person to have his back wholeheartedly. She would swing just as hard as the boys if someone would touch him, always to his dismay.

She was fiery and fiercely protective over the people she loved and called family. It was one of her greatest qualities… also one of her weakest. He knew she would sacrifice for the people she loved and it hurt him to know she would sacrifice everything. But it was hypocritical to think this way, as he knew that he would do the same.

"I like the cover" she quipped, holding the DVD case in her fingertips as she climbed onto the couch, nudging her way right into Steve's side. She always found that place in his side that was most comfortable that she usually end up falling asleep on. She was always questioned by people why she didn't get feeling for Steve. He has a heart of gold and was always there for her. But what people didn't realize was that their bond went beyond what most friendships had and that line could never be crossed. Both were okay with this.

"I would say it's very hippie or modern but we both know we're old" she giggled at his comment, nodding in agreement.

"So old" the movie began and both watched in amusement, liking it better than they anticipated.


	2. Chapter 2 On Your Left

**Chapter 2 - On Your Left **

Jean ran next to Steve, her heart pumping. Her feet pounded against the pavement, the two friends shifting into a fast paced rhythm. The sun was barely peeking through the capital city, but there was something so still and fragile about the morning colors against the mainly gray, marbleized backdrop. Her hair flew behind her in the ponytail, a smile plastered on her face.

There was something raw about pushing her body to this point, a good training and meditative practice she cherished to do with Steve. There was a man up the way, jogging, causing her to shoot Steve a look to alarm the guy they were coming up on his left.

"On your left." Steve called as they passed him. They kept up their pace, finishing another lap, soon seeing the man again.

"On your left." Jean called, glancing over at him as the guy looked over at her.

"Uh-huh, on my left. Got it." she smirked at the tone of his voice. He sounded bothered at how fast the two were running. Steve and Jean picked up their pace a little more, rounding again as they came upon the same guy.

"Don't say it! Don't you say it!" the guy called, trying to keep up.

"On your left!" Steve called. The guy tried to catch up to them as he yelled,

"Come on!" Jean was almost amused by his drive to try and keep up, but he wasn't souped up on a serum, although she wouldn't dismiss that he would be good competition if she hadn't been injected. Steve and her took an extra lap, the sweat staining the back of her oversized crew neck. They soon finished, coming to a slow jog as she saw the guy resting below a tree, the sun fully up and brighter than she would have wanted. It was warm outside. She followed Steve towards the direction of the guy, fixing her hair into a loose bun to get the hair off of her sweaty neck and readjusting her shorts so they weren't riding up.

"Need a medic?" Steve called, causing the guy to laugh. Jean got a good look of the guy, reading his body language and face. There was a small mischievous glint in his eye. He had a strong face structure and what she would have called back in her day a "hippie beard". It shaped his face in a captivating way… She couldn't deny that he was handsome because he was. Her face even flushed a little. Her face hadn't flushed like that in a long time, catching her off guard… She felt a little… guilty?

"I need a new set of lungs. Dude, you both just ran like 13 miles in 30 minutes." She could almost immediately tell he was quick tongued and funny.

"I guess we got a late start." Steve said noticing the little tinge of red on Jean's cheeks. Was she blushing? He could almost jump up and down from the moment, surprised she could even still blush.

"Oh, really? You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap." The guy hesitated for a moment before sarcastically continuing,

"Did you just take it? I assumed you just took it." his sarcasm was like a breath of fresh air. She hadn't been exposed to this kind of sarcasm in awhile. He had an amazing complexion, his skin looking perfect in the sunlight. Jean stood there, becoming suddenly self conscious. How could she let herself be interested in this stranger when her heart was so unavailable…

/gifs/sam-wilson-a9WQP4YVl5mzC

Sam Wilson stood there, in awe of this encounter. He knew who the two were; Captain America/ Steve Rogers and Blaze / Theresa Jean Markette**. **The two were legends in war. Captain America was tall, broad shouldered, a guy you wouldn't want to fight against. Blaze, on the other hand, was not what he expected. She stood shorter than Cap, looking as if she stood around 5'7. For hearing the stories of her powers and abilities, she was deceptively quiet and reserved. She seemed to try and avoid being analyzed by Sam but it was in his nature. He knew she was doing the same.

In Sam's probably popular opinion, She was hot, no way around it. Extremely hot. She had that light skin complexion, big brown eyes, and full, kind of puffy lips. She had a messy bun fixed on her head with a heap of curls threatening to fall. He could instantly tell, from a subtle glance over that she had a body on her that she most likely did not share with anyone. She was mysterious. He could tell there was a lot she didn't tell people and Sam wanted to know her… He was intrigued by this woman.

"What unit you with?" Steve asked, looking between the two. He hadn't seen Theresa Jean quiet like this in a long time.

"58, Pararescue. But now I'm working down at the VA. Sam Wilson." Sam spoke as Steve reached forward with a hand, helping Sam up.

"Steve Rogers." Steve spoke. He nudged his quiet, captious, and cautious friend. She cleared her throat, reaching her hand out to the new guy.

"Jean Markette" she said, her voice hitching a little. She took his outreached hand, feeling a few goosebumps breaking out across her arms. She didn't meet men, new men at least, unless she was fighting alongside the Strike team. She found it a waste of time. For a matter of fact, she didn't really choose to meet anyone.

"I kind of put that together. Must have freaked you two out coming home after the whole defrosting thing." Jean felt a pang in her gut, trying not to remember how she felt when she first came out. The fear, anger, pain, regret, confusion, it was an absolute nightmare. Jean looked away, clenching her jaw.

"It takes some getting used to. It's good to meet you, Sam." Steve continued, trying to avoid the conversation, knowing it would bring up some not so great things. He turned to leave, Sam speaking up.

"It's your bed, right?" Jean raised her eyebrows a tad at the comment. She unclenched her jaw, loosening a little as she turned back to face him.

"What's that?" she spoke up by herself for the first time since learning his name. Sam raised his eyebrows a tad.

"Your bed, it's too soft. When I was over there I'd sleep on the ground and use rock for pillows, like a caveman. Now I'm home, lying in my bed, and it's like…"

"Lying on a marshmallow. Feel like I'm gonna sink right to the floor." she stated, a tad monotone, crossing her arms. Sam smiles and nods his head

"How long?" Steve asked knowingly.

"Two tours. Must miss the good old days, huh?" Jean winced a bit, rubbing her arm.

"Well, things aren't so bad. Food's a lot better, we used to boil everything. No polio is good. Internet, so helpful. We've been reading that a lot trying to catch up." Steve joked shrugging. Jean nodded, thankful Steve was beside her.

"Marvin Gaye, 1972, "Trouble Man" soundtrack. Everything you've missed jammed into one album." Sam nodded with a smirk, the name sounded familiar.

"I'll put it on the list." Steve got his small notebook and pen out and notes it down on his list. Both Steve and Jean received a text message: "Mission alert. Extraction imminent. Meet at the curb." Jean sighed deeply. Every time there was a mission, she felt as if someone was right around the corner, watching, blaming her for not being on that…

"Alright, Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run. If that's what you wanna call running." Steve could see the dark look cross over her eyes, trying to divert Sam from seeing her shift in body language. Jean looked away.

"Oh, that's how it is?" Sam quipped sarcastically. He could see the darkness in her eyes as well, wanting to know why, but understanding from Steve's body language not to pry.

"Oh, that's how it is." Steve joked back.

"Okay. Any time you wanna stop by the VA, make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know." Jean was out of the conversation, trying to control the anger building in her chest, the tightness that always hit before the storm, before having to risk her ass for something most likely political, meaning less… the attack on New York, now that was saving lives, but most of this shit they were having her and Steve do was… Why even bring them out from the ice…

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Okay." Jean was abruptly broken from her negative mind flow as Natasha Romanoff pulled up in her car by the curb. Naasha rolled down the window with that usual aura of clever toughness.

"Hey, fellas. Either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a few fossils." Jean scuffed.

"Ha ha ha ha ha" Jean called dryly, heading towards the car. Natasha winked at Jean, making Jean crack a little tiny smile.

Natasha Romanoff and Jean Markette had a very perplexing relationship. Natasha was used to being surrounded by all men and the idea of having a female friend, or friend at all was almost humorous. Jean Markette grew up with all men, was surrounded by all men, but was touched with the gift of meeting Peggy. Peggy Carter and Jean were close not simply because of Steve (although that was a major factor), but because they found comradery. Jean had her guard far up when she met Natasha, but somehow after the two saved each other's lives during the battle of New York several times, and the fact that the two now work with each other alongside Steve, a barrier was crossed. Somehow Natasha and Jean found they could trust each other… in some convoluted way and although neither would ever fully admit it, they enjoyed each other's company a lot. There was a safety there.

"That's hilarious." Steve shook his head, walking over to Natasha's car behind Jean. He got into the backseat. Sam gave Natasha and her car an appreciative look, understandably.

"How you doing?" Jean chuckled at Sam's approach to Natasha. She always found the way that men approached Natasha entertaining. The way men would advance on Natasha and Jean was very different. Even if men found Jean attractive, nobody ever made an advance towards her, and if they did they were always drunk. Of course, it wasn't a complete surprise. She was, as the media liked to say, a "fire breathing" superhero spitfire with an agility quite unmatched. Most men were intimidated by her. She didn't mind…

"Hey." Natasha glanced over at Jean, noticing her body language. Natasha took a double take between the new man and Jean, playfully smirking.

"Can't run everywhere." Steve called as Natasha revved the engine.

"No, you can't." Natasha sped off, leaving the new stranger back on that sidewalk, taking off.

"So… he was cute, right Jean?"

"Natasha" Jean warned her, shooting her a look. Jean looked out the window, watching the scene outside move past her eyes.

_**Flashback **_

"_How long?" Jean turned around to the voice that caught her off guard. She turned to see Peggy Carter._

"_M'am?"_

"_Please. Peggy" Jean cracked a smile at Peggy's correction, nodding respectfully. The woman made her way up next to the bar beside Jean. Jean understood why Steve got nervous and jittery around her. Peggy was undeniably a force to be reckoned with. It was attractive. Peggy sat at the bar seat next to Jean, motioning to the bartender. It had been a long day and Jean had thought she had slipped out before anyone saw. Obviously, she wasn't the only one who needed an air from all the testosterone. _

"_Same as her please." The bartender filled a glass, handing Peggy the Rickey. _

"_So how long?" she asked Jean the question again, a smile on her face as she took a sip of the drink._

_ pin/214765475970521809/_

"_How long for what?"_

"_You and Sergeant Barnes" Mid sip, Jean choked on her drink, feeling her face flushed bright crimson. _

"_I don't know what…" Peggy shook her head._

"_Oh come on Jean. You are the only relief I get from all the men" Jean looked over at her, mouth open in a little grin. Jean raised an eyebrow._

"_We aren't together. At least. I don't think so." Peggy was surprised by Jean's response. _

_Peggy found Jean good company. In Peggy's opinion, Jean was one of the strongest she had met out in the field. She saw how Jean handled the men, impressed with how independent and passionate she was. _

"_How about Steve?" Jean asked with a smirk, confident in asking the question to her superior. Peggy's eyes widened at Jean's question. Peggy quickly regained her composure, taking more of the drink._

"_He's… a very interesting man" They nodded, staying quiet for a moment before Peggy looked back over at Jean, with a smirk._

"_After the mission Saturday, come over to my quarters. We can go out together" Jean smiled. _

"_Alright"_

_**End of Flashback**_


	3. Chapter 3 Mission Report

**Chapter 3 Mission Report **

"You ready?" Jean glanced up at Natasha as she finished adjusting the strap on her leg before placing one of the guns in her thigh holster ( pin/851884085744802129/?nic=1). Jean nodded, while she stood, moving her first and middle finger around. Jean twisted her hand upright, to create a controlled flame in her hand.

/pin/572168327642058485/

She could sense the other field agents' nervousness as she did so. Nobody really ever got used to how her eyes would change when she used one of her powers.

/pin/783063453938072497/?nic=1

"What's the mission today? Some cranky old scientists stole something?" Jean asked disinterested. She almost found it offensive that she went from fighting against crazy nazis to doing more… objective missions.

"No. I wish. Pirates took over some SHIELD ship" Jean scrunched her eyebrows.

"Pirates? We are going to sea?"

"What happens when you touch water? Do you just combust?" Jean chuckled at Nat's question. It was a good question.

"Water doesn't affect me. Only once did it hurt when I tried to control it but it hurt and I don't see much use in trying to ever do that again" she lowered her voice, as to not catch attention from others as they boarded the quinjet.

Jean left her mask off, for awhile, avoiding the Strike team, especially Brock Rumlow. She didn't trust any of them. Now, Jean was already a changed person after coming out of the ice, but she knew it was easier to put some form of trust within the Avengers team. Even Tony Stark, who Jean personally really liked because of his wit, arrogance, and stubborn nature, was someone that if need be, she could rely on. There was something different with this Strike team, especially their leader, Alexander Pierce. Even if Fury liked him, she did not.

"Romanoff. Blaze" Jean bordered on being entertained by his use of her "name." She nodded, keeping a straight face, never showing them any form of emotion. Jean moved towards her usual position on the jet, waiting patiently for Steve to get there. Her hair spooled around her face in an abundance of curls. She could feel her heart pumping a tad as she blinked her eyes to make sure to control the heat she could feel building up. Jean had great control over what experts called her pyrokinesis, along with other labels. This control didn't mean she was always in control. She had to be careful of getting too angry. She didn't turn into the creature that Bruce Banner became, but that didn't mean it wasn't intense.

"Cap" She looked up as Steve made his way onto the ship next to her. Steve could see the uncertainty in her eyes. The jet began, soon heading out for the upcoming two hour ride.

"Mission report?" Jean asked, moving forward with Cap by her side. The two were usually put into a leadership position, Steve usually appearing to take more of that place but he definitely had no problem with letting her take over.

Rumlow pulled up the computer screen, showing the map of the mission plan

"The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, 93 minutes ago." Jean began memorizing every square inch of what was being presented. She had a memory much above others, finding it easy to memorize plans of building before missions like such, notably helpful for unstable situations.

"Any demands?" Steve asked.

"A billion and a half." Rumlow responded seriously.

"Why so steep?" Jean wheezed at the number as she crossed her arms. A billion and a half back in her day was immeasurable.

"Because it SHIELD's." Jean and Steve shot each other at Rumlow's hesitant response.

"So it's not off-course" Steve quipped skeptical.

"It's trespassing." Jean snapped, feeling the heat in her body accumulate.

"I'm sure they have a good reason." Natasha responded cooly. Jean raised her eyebrows, sensing that Natasha knew more than she was letting on. Jean knew it was not the time nor place to question Nat on this but to keep her eyes wide open. There was more to this mission than was being let on. Steve was sometimes a little too trusting of missions, surprised when new things popped up. Steve was frustrated at how last minute things added as they were about to jump and get shot at.

"You know, I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor." Steve snapped.

"Relax, it's not that complicated." Natasha caught Jean's facial expression. Jean chuckled with an extra bite of sarcasm.

"Right. How many pirates?" Jean stated dryly. The space became tense, sensing the heat from Jean.

"Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc." Rumlow pulled up a photo of the Batroc guy onto the monitor, continuing with a description.

"Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties."

"Hostages?" Steve asked looking at Jean.

"Uh...mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell." Rumlow pulls Sitwell's photo on the monitor. Jean had to stop herself from snorting in sarcastic amusement. This man was not a man who should be on a ship in the middle of the ocean. He was, as she called him, a desk boy.

"They're in the galley."

"What's Sitwell doing on a launch ship?" Steve asked, raising his eyebrows at Rumlow. Before Rumlow could respond, Jean quickly interjected.

"Alright, alright. Cap, we are gonna sweep the deck, you find Batroc, I'll be on your left, checking the perimeters." I started looking to Steve to drop the topic so we could continue.

"Nat, you'll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get 'em out. Let's move." Steve finished, tightening the shield to his back.

"STRIKE, you heard the Captains. Gear up." Rumlow called, everyone on the jet getting prepared. She closed her eyes, the usual tick flowing across her body as she allowed her eyes to shift and stay shifted. The sensation flowed through Jean's body, a roaring, flaring sensation, as if her veins were morphing to prepare. She preferred to use her combat and fighting ability over just simply using fire, unless she needed flight. Jean adjusted the communicator on her wrist, counting to calm her heart rate. She checked her wrist communicator, speaking into it.

"Secure channel seven" she asked, looking at Steve to repeat while checking his.

"Secure channel seven." Steve responded before Nat answered.

"Seven secure." Jean double checked she had everything in place.

"Did you two do anything fun Saturday night?" Nat asked, making Jean loosen the tension in her body.

_**Flashback Jean's P.O.V. (1st Person)**_

"_Try this one on." Peggy held a slick back dress and heels, lifting it up while I finished pulling up the __stockings__. Peggy handed me the __dress (_ /pin/512354895109084751/ )_. I ran my fingers over the fabric, admiring it. It was edgy, more of that British fashion Peggy was telling me about. I glanced in the mirror. This was out of my comfort zone. Peggy stood next to me, wearing a gorgeous red number, already dressed for the evening. Peggy shook her head._

"_You have a great figure. You should show it off more." I shook her head. I definitely did not feel that way._

"_Come on. Try it on" Peggy reassured me. I took a deep breath and put the dress on, turning back to the mirror. Peggy had lit a cigarette, seeing the black dress on me. After a big puff of smoke, Peggy clapped._

"_That's perfect" I smiled. I wasn't used to having a female companion but I enjoyed it a lot. I put on the __heels (_ /pin/512354895109084766/ )_, completely Peggy's masterpiece. We took our time, applying makeup, doing hair, smoking cigarettes, and simply enjoying each other's presence._

_Silence erupted across the bar as Peggy and I entered. I couldn't help but smirk at the silence, glancing at Peggy. Peggy looked over at mme. We saw the effect that they had on the men. We looked back forward, seeing the two men who were the targets. _

/pin/837880705654794918/

_Steve and Bucky leaned backward off their bar seats to see the two women had just entered. Bucky's eyes widened. She looked so… different. But in a good way. He knew that whatever they did to her made her taller and the "perfect" human specimen but he saw the same beautiful woman he had been in love with for most of his life. They locked eyes as they began walking forward towards him and Steve. _

"_Captain." Peggy began, using her professional voice. I bit my lip as I looked at Bucky. I really haven't gotten any alone time with him since we were reunited and frankly, it annoyed me. I wanted him to want to drag me out of this place and… well… ravage me. I felt a warmth race through my body, turning crimson red. I could feel my eyes shift and I gasped quietly, looking down. I felt a wave of nervousness passing over me. __**GET IT TOGETHER**__._

"_Captain Markette" I raised my eyebrows at the address, grinning at Bucky. _

"_Sergeant Barnes" we didn't notice that Steve and Peggy had moved down a ways to talk more privately. _

"_To what do I owe this pleasure doll?" He asked. There was a glint of something new in his eyes that I hadn't seen before and something inside me made me want to. _

"_You can buy me a drink Sergeant and we can take it from there," he smirked, turning to the bartender. Whatever game was being played right now was not the usual type of flirting we did. Of course there was the night before he had left but there was something almost animalistic between us, a yearning to go to that place of unknown and whether it was that serum they pumped me with, or Bucky's oozing testosterone from being at war, something was deepening between us and for the first time ever, I realized that we were no longer going to hide between the "friendship terminology"._

"_Two Rickeys please" he moved closer to me as I moved to the bar, placing a hand on my lower (much lower) back. I raised one eyebrow at him, as he pulled me into his side. _

"_Careful there Barnes. You're moving into unknown territory" whatever he was expecting, he knew what he wanted to do and frankly, it had taken him way too long to ask her the question. He wanted to badly to ask her to be his girl, his doll. Something about tonight seemed to emphasize that he needed to do it. It was now or never. _

_He leaned over close to my ear, growling huskily in my ear. _

"_It's okay ma'am. I enjoy being reckless" this very statement was enough to send an entire army of shivers down my spine. _

**End of Flashback**

"Did you two do anything fun Saturday night?" Nat asked, scrunching her eyes a little at Jean's shy face. She had to make sure she kept control, even when remembering the way he had whispered into her ear that night… of all time NOW was NOT the time to be feeling any type of way.

"Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, so... No, not really." She looked over at Jean, waiting for Jean's response. Jean scuffed.

"Well, who doesn't love playing scrabble with that fossil?" she nodded towards Steve who smiled as Nat shook her head.

"Coming up by the drop zone." the pilot called from ahead. Her eyes blazed with the colors rolling around in her corneous, prepared for the fight.

"Okay first of all you two… you need to get out more Jean" Nat began.

"That isn't going to happen" Jean shrugged. She pulled up her mask, her hair whipping around wildly as the back of the jet opened, her eyes glowing in contrast to the night sky.

"You know, if you ask Kristen out, from Statistics, she'd probably say yes." Jean looked at Steve behind her mask, knowing he wouldn't. Maybe the girl that lived in their hall, but most likely not Kristen. Kristen looked a little too much like Peggy did…

"That's why I don't ask." he chuckled, backing towards the opening as Jean had.

"Too shy or too scared?" Nat called over the opening loudness of the jet.

"Too busy!" Steve shrugged, glancing at Jean.

"Your excuse?" Nat jokingly glared at Jean. Jean shrugged with a smug grin on her face.

"Too busy setting things on fire" She joked. Nat enjoyed Jean's little joke, shaking her head. Steve and Jean looked over at each other.

They nodded, turning and jumping out of the jet. She adjusted herself in flight to be going head first, fingers slightly outstretched as she let her hands fly her forward, silent and fast in order to avoid being seen ( /pin/694328467524777661/). She knew she would make contact with the water before Steve did, forming a fire shield around her body to brace herself as she drove fast into the cold water. She broke the surface, seeing Steve going in feet first. As she waded at the surface, Steve broke the surface next to her.

They made their way to the long chain of the anchor coming out from the ocean, reaching up to the boat. Steve began up first, Jean following behind. As she finally was above the water, quietly climbing up behind him, she heated her body, making her once wet body dry instantly. Steve made it first, swiftly throwing himself on quietly, making a quiet, stealthy take down. Jean hauled herself on after, Steve looking back at her. She grabbed him arm, heating his body carefully in order to dry him quickly.

"Honestly so handy" he joked, smirking at her as she shook her head.

"Right" he whispered, taking off to the right of the ship. Jean turned left, taking off at a rapid and cunningly noiseless attack, lifting a hand of fire to expel two upcoming armed men off of the boat without making a noise. Jean flew up with an exertion of heat, her blazing fist cracking down on the face of an unsuspecting armed man. She jumped off the ladder, absorbing a punch before using the attack from the man, to expel excess flare from her body to make him fly away. She needed to remind herself of control, internal, preventing an out of league flare. The goal was not to combust the ship. She heard Steve up ahead, racing forward to help. She quietly flipped him over, slamming him unconscious to the ground. The Strike team and Natasha parachute down, Rumlow having just shot down a man behind Steve.

"Thanks."

"Yeah. You seemed pretty helpless without me." Natasha glanced over at Steve as Jean prepared to be on overwatch.

"What about the nurse that lives across the hall from you? She seems kind of nice." Jean actually smirked at the comment.

"I agree, she's a doll" Steve shot Jean a look of frustration, wishing she wouldn't encourage Nat.

"Secure the engine room, then find me a date, and you, don't encourage, perimeter" he finished, glancing over at Jean. Jean raised her hands lit with fire, pushing herself up to hovering in the air.

Jean could sense something was wrong, that something was not going to plan. She flew quickly over to where Steve was after detecting him from a distance, overhearing an argument between him and Natasha.

"Rumlow needed your help. What the hell are you doing here?" Jean walked in the door, arms in the air.

"What the hell is going on?" Jean asked, confused by the situation.

"Natasha is saving SHIELD Intel." Steve looked to Jean, angry.

"Natasha?"

"Whatever I can get my hands on." Jean walked forward, moving over to see what exactly Natasha was trying to save. She could feel the growing tension between Steve and Natasha and found herself having to step in.

"Our mission is to rescue hostages." Steve snapped, leaning on his hip.

"No. That's your mission." Steve was taken aback by Natasha's quick response. Natasha finished backing up the intel, pulling the flash drive out.

"And you've both done it beautifully." Natasha went to leave but Steve grabbed her arm.

"You just jeopardized this whole operation."

"Steve" Jean spoke up, stepping forward. This is not what they needed right now.

"I think that's overstating things." Jean heard a sound in the corner of the room, feeling a flare rise up her arms. Suddenly Batroc rose out of nowhere, throwing a grenade at the three of them as he runs off. Steve deflects the bomb with his shield, grabbing Natasha. Jean quickly transformed more, absorbing the explosion and fire as Natasha and Steve jumped through the window. Jean screamed, quickly flying out from the explosion to above where she could release what she absorbed.

"Okay. That one's on me." Natasha said as Jean looked down, fully pissed at the situation.

"You're damn right. Jean you okay?" Jean nodded, trying to prevent herself from fully transforming because she knew if she didn't regain control, she would be dangerous.

"I will see you back home…"

"Wait… Jean…" Jean didn't wait for Steve's response, taking off back towards the capital.


	4. Chapter 4 Milkshake and Fries

**Chapter 4 Milkshake and Fries**

"Thought I might find you here" Jean glanced over her shoulder, seeing the man she had met only a few days ago with Steve. She was, needless to say, startled to see Sam Wilson in the Smithsonian, at the Captain America and Blaze exhibit. She felt a deep blush of shame break out across her face as she lowered her cap, her hair spooling out around her zipped up jacket that was overtop of her hoodie. She didn't exactly want Sam to see the burn mark on the side of her face from absorbing the bomb. Her body was healing and it would be gone by tomorrow, but that didn't make her feel any better about it. Tony was working on a better fireproof suite for her and she really was counting down the days for that.

Sam noticed the small burn mark on her face. He could imagine that the mission wasn't easy. He didn't know that he would run into her when he decided to come to the museum. He came to learn more, see for himself. He found himself kind of happy to run into her. Jean crossed her arms , looking towards the ground as Sam looked from her to the display.

"First time here?" Jean asked quietly, as to not gain attention from anyone walking around.

"It's been awhile" Sam responded, motioning for Jean to follow beside him. Jean was tentative to do so, but followed as the overhead announcer began on the story.

"A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America and Blaze is one of honor, bravery and sacrifice. Denied enlistment due to poor health and for being a woman, Steven Rogers and Theresa Jean Markette were chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform them into the world's first, two super soldiers." Sam and Jean stood in front of the display of mannequins that held the costumes of Jean and Steve's old commando squad. The Howling Commandos… She shook her head with a tiny smile on her lips… what a group of men. She remembered how much she made fun of Bucky for those pants… The narrator above continued.

"Battle tested, Captain America, Blaze and their Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission; taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division." Jean walked over to the display of Bucky, knowing Sam was following behind her. She stared at the picture of her and Bucky, seeing one of the videos of Bucky and her laughing, Bucky kissing her cheek. She sighed, the narrator on the speaker continuing over Bucky's exhibit.

"The three were best friends since childhood. Bucky Barnes, Jean Markette and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. Bucky Barnes and Jean Markette were very much in love and were planning the future after the war, talking of marriage. He didn't make it. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in the service of his country." Sam looked over at the demeanor of Jean, seeing the darkness within her eyes. Sam couldn't believe the difference between the woman in the photos and videos versus the quiet, distant person beside him. To Sam, Jean looked to be so… open and fiery and passionate… He had no idea that Jean and Barnes were serious. He hadn't noticed that Jean had started walking away. Jean began making her way out of the museum, hoping that Sam was not in tow.

"Are you hungry?" Jean scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. She turned, staring at the stranger, confused. Dinner? Was she hungry?

"Like food? Come on girl, I know you had food back in the olden times" he joked sarcastically. She let out a breath of a partial chuckle. Sam smirked at the sound, it was a surprisingly light sound. He wanted to hear more of it.

"I'll drive. Or we can walk. I know a place nearby" Jean leaned on her hip a tad, raising an eyebrow. Sam was taken aback by the hesitation of Jean.

"You realize you can kick my ass with your pinky finger right?" Jean stifled a laugh, shrugging. For some damned reason, she was somewhat okay with it. Besides, she was hungry and she definitely was not cooking tonight. Steve probably wouldn't mind if she got home after dinner. They could at least still watch a movie.

"Uhm… I… " She sucked in her bottom lip, tilting her head a little. She took out her phone, sending Steve a text that she would be back in time for a movie.

"Sure… we can walk" She surrendered, to Sam's delight.

"Great. Awesome. The diner up the way; Good burgers, fries, and shakes" Jean took a second before nodding. She took a deep inhale, holding that breath before letting it go. There wasn't really anything wrong with a burger. She walked next to Sam as he began to lead her in the direction of this diner.

She glanced down at her black jeans, putting her hands into her jacket pockets. Jean fiddled with the lint inside of the pockets. This was weird. She felt weird. She had not been alone with a man, outside of Steve, for years. It felt different, new territory. This was definitely not her style. She didn't knew what she was doing. Jean began surfing through the incoming thoughts flowing through her mind as she began to doubt herself and this situation. They remained quiet, walking at a brisk pace, her boots pounding against the sidewalk.

"What would you like dear?" the older waitress asked Jean who looked up at the woman with a startled, wide eyed expression. The old waitress was extremely friendly and could sense Jean's frigid body language.

"Chocolate milkshake… and an ice water" Jean responded, relaxing her facial expression. She looked over at Sam who smirked at her response.

"Someone is into chocolate aren't we" now, if this were someone else, Jean's first reaction would have been to throw a fire shot directly to where the sun don't shine, but something about his sarcastic, joking tone made her loosen up a little with a raised eyebrow.

"You wish…" Sam leaned his head back a little, raising an eyebrow at her retort. It was something he wasn't expecting but the bite back was a start.

"Cookies n Cream and an ice water" Sam said to the waitress who seemed puzzled at the duo's dynamic. She nodded with a toothy, gapped smile, swiveling on her heel to scutter off to the back to place the drink order.

She was soon back, carrying a tray with their drinks. She placed their perspective drinks in front of the two, smiling again with that big smile.

"Have you decided what you wanted to eat yet?"

"Yes ma'am. I would love the double bacon cheeseburger with fries" Sam said looking over at Jean, wondering what she would order.

"And for you miss?"

"I would like the same… but can I have a side of ranch?" The waitress nodded, taking the menus and scurrying off again.

"A side of ranch?" Sam asked, a hint of fake mocking behind his voice. Jean rolled her eyes.

"I like ranch"

"I can see that. Doesn't mean that makes you cool" Jean shook her head, fiddling with her thumbs under the table. Sam studied her, noticing that she didn't seem as distant as she was the first time he met her. She took a long drink from the milkshake, closing her eyes in bliss. It was absolutely delicious.

"So Sparky… Tell me something." Sam said, making Jean choke a little on the milkshake left in her mouth. She shot him a lot at what he had called her.

"Sparky?" Sam smirked at her response.

"Yeah Sparky, you got a problem with that?" She smirked a little before shifting her eyes, looking at him. His eyes widened only a little, not enough to appear scared. He wasn't scared… he was not used to you know… superhumans or whatever they preferred to be called. She flipped her eyes back to normal, taking another sip.

"Watch yourself there slowpoke" he immediately became defensive at the reference to his running.

"That's not fair. I was never pumped with superhuman strength"

"And?" She sarcastically shot back, surprised by her own voice. It was animated. There was a comfortable moment of silence before Sam began again.

"Tell me about him" She was alarmed by this question. Unless it was Steve worrying, like he was her father, she didn't really get asked "questions," ESPECIALLY not about Bucky. It was like the unspoken rule. Besides, she didn't really share personal information like that anymore. Sam could see the caution in her eyes. That guy was probably a topic she did not talk about. Maybe going to the diner was a mistake…

"You know, down at the VA we usually share stories… to remember things.. It helps" again, her first instinct was to become defensive. What… was he trying to therapitize her? Sam knew he was pushing it a little, but by the look on her

"Like back in the good old days before…" his statement fell off as Jean spoke up.

"Before the ice?" she asked, as the waitress brought out their food. This was not somewhere that Jean wanted to go… or think about… but there was something so… simple about the question. She sighed, taking a big bite from the burger before saying anything. She let a minute go by before saying anything. Things started to process a little; Sam's facial expression at Bucky's display…

"You lost someone over there didn't you…" she asked slowly, her tone soft.

"Riley. My wingman." she listened quietly, knowing the sacrifice that soldiers make is sometimes hard to understand for someone who hasn't been at war and she knew too well of his facial expression. His pitch was low and steady as he continued.

"Rescue mission, everything was routine but RPG hit and I couldn't do anything to save him" Sam didn't share the gory details, nor dive into the personal ones either. He didn't talk about the devastation he felt about seeing Riley die and feelings of hopelessness. He didn't talk about his struggle with PTSD or a monologue on his dedication to helping others. But his vulnerability was… something she could consider trusting. Sam waited, seeing a change in Jean's body language. Her shoulder loosened back a bit.

She hadn't talked about Bucky to anyone new in a very long time… Years even. It just… wasn't something she did unless with Steve and even then, it was too painful. She looked down, watching tiny water droplets of condensation roll down the sides of her ice water.

"His name was James, everyone called him Bucky… but you know that already" Jean whispered. It felt almost good to say his name again… She wasn't receiving that pity look that her and Steve got but one of… understanding. She didn't want to talk about a lot of things, but took a deep breath. She remembered the time about Coney Island.

"Every summer we spent weeks saving up so we could go to Coney Island… Steve, uh… Bucky and I. We were all broke but somehow we could always find a way out there. We were 14 at the time and Bucky had convinced Steve and I to get on the Cyclone. Steve got so sick afterwards, I mean he was puking everywhere. It was disgusting. Bucky thought that it was hilarious. He was like that, could make a moment a lot better. We ended up having to catch a ride on the back of a freezer truck" Sam chuckled at that comment. Jean even cracking a little smile.

"How come?"

"Spent all our remaining train money to buy hot dogs… and Bucky spent $3 trying to win a stuffed bear for this girl named Dolores." Sam made a face as Jean shook her head, remembering Dolores. Out of all the girls that Bucky had admired (or at least pretended to) Dolores was annoying. She used to pick her nose in third grade, and maybe this was just Jean's selective memory, but the jealousy of other females in a young teenager's mind can do wild things.

"Did he win the bear?"

"Yeah. And she gave it to someone else" Jean laughed a hearty laugh, it erupted from her chest. Sam laughed, his shoulders shaking as he joined in with her. Jean placed a hand on her chest, shaking her head. It felt weird laughing like that. Jean hadn't laughed like that in such a long time. It felt… good…. But this moment was fleeting… She felt… wrong… guilty… Her smile faded a little, looking down. She cleared her throat weakly.

"That must have been hard. Losing him and going in the ice" Jean went quiet, looking at Sam with an unreadable expression.

"Going in the ice didn't compare to coming out…" Jean whispered darkly, looking out of the window.

Sam knew he touched a nerve he most likely shouldn't have… but he wanted to know more. Yet, he knew if he pressed too hard, there was a possibility she would close herself off. He just met the woman and he knew she was not like most people. She had seen things, and done things most people haven't. Sam had no idea where this moment was going, but there was something so… sad about her. He wanted to make her laugh like that a lot more. He spent so much time working with others, trying to ease their pains. But this woman… he felt a strong yearning to repair those mourning eyes. It wasn't that he wanted to persay "fix" her. He wanted to give her a reason to smile again…

"You ever listen to TLC?"

Steve paced the hallway of the apartment complex. She should have been back from the museum by now. Gosh dammit Jean, where was she? It was 9:56 pm. She was never out that late and yes, she did text him but she said she would be back in time to watch a movie… not that he was focused on the movie more than her well being. It was hard to see her absorb the bomb the way she did but he couldn't treat her like she was weak because frankly, she's not… What if she decided she was done? Would she just leave him like that? She was it. She was all he had left. The sound of footsteps down the hallway broke Steve from his internal ramblings and racing thoughts.

There came Jean, walking casually around the corner, baseball cap on, her hair spooling around her shoulders and down her back, holding a white bag and container. He could see the burn mark on her face was already beginning to heal, but it was still visible.

Jean looked up, raising her eyebrows at a pacing, and very tense looking Steve Rogers.

"Steve… what's…"

"Where were you?" he interrupted her. She contorted her face, surprised by his tone.

"I was at the museum… I texte…"

"This late?" Steve knew he probably shouldn't be treating or talking to her like this but he was protective. Extremely protective.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't realize that I had to ask for permission, FATHER." she snapped back incredulously.

Steve made a face. He turned away from her, frustrated.

Steve and Jean didn't argue often but when they did, it was brief and quickly fixed. There were sometimes bickering but this was common and never serious. Jean sighed, letting her defensive attitude drop. She knew Steve was worried but even if Steve is Captain America, it doesn't mean that he isn't human. Men are sometimes terrible communicators (not that Jean didn't have her moments because she did but this was endearing).

"I know you aren't exactly communicating well at this moment, but I was fine." She took a deep breath before explaining where she was. Jean didn't need to tell Steve, but a VERY tiny part of her wanted to.

"I ran into Sam at the museum and we got something to eat. Look… I brought you back a milkshake and fries…" Jean held the take home bag, holding the take home cup. Jean cracked a grin as she looked up at him.

"Now I know that whole face you were just making moments ago was because you were actually worried. How many times do I need to tell you I'm not going to leave you behind" she stated, hoping he didn't process she had eaten food with a man that wasn't him. Steve smiled sheepishly, taking the food and drink from her hands.

"Thank you. Look… I'm sorry"

"It's okay. What movie are we watching?"

"I'm thinking Dirty Dan… wait a second… hold on… WHAT?" Steve exclaimed staring wildly at Jean. Jean's face instantly started to flush pink. Jean turned to her door, trying to ignore the embarrassment.

"YOU WENT OUT TO DINNER? WITH SAM WILSON? SAM WILSON FROM JOGGING SAM WILSON?" the smug grin of excitement on Steve's face made Jean want to gag.

"Steve" she warned, trying . She opened her door, Steve in hot pursuit.

"You **HAVE** to TELL ME about THIS!" Jean cracked a little smile, her face more red than ever. As Jean went to get changed to watch a movie with Steve, she did not realize that her life would no longer be the same.

**He sat on top of the building like a ghost in the night, invisible to the world below. The only thing that could be seen was the moonlight illuminating the metal arm. He watched, intensely, behind the mask. His personal target was inside of the building below. Through the window, he studied her as she sipped on a drink. She looked tense, his instant compulsion to eliminate the man that sat across from her. He was confused when he saw her laugh. Why would she laugh? He knew staying longer would mean a punishment but there was a turmoil inside of him, amplifying each day. He could not stop himself from hunting her. He stayed in the shadows, studying, analyzing. He didn't know whether he wanted to kill her or… He wasn't programmed to have an emotion towards something, anything for that matter. He was made to follow orders and complete missions. He always needed to complete his mission. This was… different. Ever since that night in New York, he couldn't block this draw and obsession. What he did know was that with every growing second that she sat there he wanted to remove the man across from her. **


	5. Chapter 5 Beginning of the Revelation

**Chapter 5 Beginning of the Revelation**

_**Flashback 5 ½ Weeks Ago**_

_Jean stood beside Steve, trying to hide her horror as she stared at what looked like weapons of mass destruction. It had been a day after the mission at sea, protecting hostages, and Steve had dragged her in with him to express his frustrations at the mission. Jean had been frustrated as well but didn't expect to actually get any information from Fury. She definitely didn't expect to see what was in front of her. _

"_This is Project Insight. Three next generation Helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites." Fury's voice carried above the sound of the technicians, engineers, and agents below. _

"_Launched from the Lemurian Star." Steve stated, Jean hearing the dismay dripping from his every word. _

"_Once we get them in the air they never need to come down. Continuous suborbital flight courtesy of our new repulsor engines."_

"_Stark?" Jean asked, looking over at Fury. _

"_Well, he had a few suggestions once he got an up close look at our old turbines. These new long range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles a minute. The satellites can read a terrorist's DNA before he steps outside his spider hole. We gonna neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen." hold on… neutralize threats before even happen? _

_Jean felt disgust washing over her. How could anyone know a threat before it presented itself as a threat? How could any human hold that amount of power? This sounded like a terrible idea and in the movies Jean had seen so far, like the Death Star, it never worked out. She thought of what had happened back when Steve and her were trying to stop Johann Schmidt, Red Skull. He tried to harness that extreme amount of power and it never worked out. _

"_I thought the punishment usually came after the crime." Steve said, dread laced with each word as both Steve and Jean were processing the nonsense being explained to them from someone who was supposed to ooze logic. _

"_We can't afford to wait that long." Fury continued, sounded so sure of himself it was making Jean sick. She didn't know what was going on but what she did know, was that something was definitely not adding up. _

"_Who's "we"?" Steve demanded. Jean knew Tony had a certain way about him but if this were even really his project, the guy would be here. Stark was like his father, he didn't let a bunch of other people do things without him there. He was, simply put it, kind of a control freak and that arrogance he had was more of a frantic need to do things himself. Now Jean could be wrong in her assessment but she knew for a fact Tony probably didn't know the full situation. _

"_After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis. For once we're way ahead of the curve." Jean shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't hold her outburst._

"_Ahead of the curve?" her eyebrows scrunching in as her face contorted in astonishment. _

"_By holding a gun at everyone on Earth and calling it protection." Steve's voice was dangerously distant. Steve looked at Jean. He knew that this was wrong and he knew that she did two. He also knew that her and himself did not stay in situations that they felt were morally wrong. _

"_You know, I read those SSR files. Greatest generation? You guys did some nasty stuff." Fury didn't mean to sound malicious in his comment, but Jean was taken aback. Darkness pooled into her eyes. She shook her head, a feeling crossing her mind that scared her. She was losing confidence in Fury._

"_Listen, we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well. But guess what, you wouldn't even be running this operation if the "Greatest Generation" didn't sacrifice amazing men and women for you, for freedom. We did it so the people could be free. This isn't freedom Fury, this is fear." Jean spoke, restraining the anger that wanted to erupt from within her. Her hands trembled a little. _

"_SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we'd like it to be. It's getting damn near past time for the both of you to get with that program." Jean glared at Fury, Steve placing a hand on her back, near her shoulder blade. _

"_Don't hold your breath." Steve muttered, guiding Jean with his hand to follow him. Jean didn't question the gesture, following Steve to the elevator, leaving Fury behind. When they walked inside, only after the doors closed, Steve looked at Jean. Jean looked back, both having the same expression on. _

"_From now on, we watch everything"_

_**End of Flashback**_

"Did you find it?" the sound of his voice broke Jean from her flashback and haze.

"Yeah. I got it" Jean responded, grabbing the extra bottle of dish soap from the cabinet below the sink.

Jean kept replaying the conversation of Project Insight in her mind over the past five and a half weeks. Steve and her had been on edge, observing, watching, trying to get more _insight_ on Insight. There was much more they weren't being told. There was an increase in "random" missions that always seemed to involve collecting more data. Steve had even forced Jean to attend the stupid gala that Alexander Pierce had thrown… that had been such a waste of…

"You okay" Jean looked over her shoulder at Sam, the television still on in his living room. Jean gave a slight grin as she nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm okay" Sam watched as Jean went back to washing dishes. He had been on table clean up and drying but he was observing her. Sam knew that Jean had been dazed the past two weeks. Even though he couldn't complain.

Sam was somehow able to build a friendship with this fiery individual. It went from meeting her in front of the museum to go to the diner every Tuesday and Thursday, to conving Jean to visit the VA every once in awhile, to being invited to join Steve and Jean's dinner movie nights every once in awhile, to now spending a good amount of time with her when she wasn't with Steve. It happened naturally and while it was unexpected and rocky at first, Sam was somehow able to get her to open up just a smidge and not be so edgy around him.

"Now, I'm not a mind reader, but obviously something is on your mind. What's wrong" Sam asked taking the dish from her hands. Jean glanced over briefly, sighing before grabbing a few utensils to soak. She couldn't tell him about things because they were confidential. She could vaguely explain.

"It's just… I sometimes question if I'm on the right side. I don't know if everything being told to me is the truth and it's hard to take orders when you feel that way…" Jean stated carefully, pausing as she looked over at Sam. Sam raised an eyebrow as he paused what he was doing, leaning against the counter.

"Steve and I have been following orders and creating them for so long… but this?" she paused, finishing what she was washing.

"It's okay to follow your heart sometimes. It's what makes us human" Sam said, wishing he could know what was actually happening. His words made Jean give a tender smile, reminiscing on the first time she heard something similar. Sam knitted his eyebrows in, not angry from the alluring smile but curious.

"What? Am I getting too soft?" Sam cracked, making Jean chuckle. He loved the sound of her chuckles, her laughter, even heard a tiny giggle once.

"No… it's just. It reminded me of something similar someone had said to me once." Sam listened as Jean turned her back to the sink, crossed her arms and leaned up against it.

"Dr. Abraham Erskine… he enlisted me alongside Steve. He's the scientist who created the original serum."

"What did he say?"

"The night before I was going to be injected, he stopped by to check on me. I asked him why he chose me. He said because he could see my heart and that sometimes you have to go with your heart." Sam smiled at that, continuing to dry the dishes.

"Smart man. He made a good decision." Jean could feel her face blush as she turned and began to finish the last plate. There were moments sometimes when Sam would say something that would hit Jean a certain way… as if there was something behind what he was saying.

"I'll put the rest away, you can… hold up" Sam's eyes went wide as he heard the game from the other room. He smirked as he looked over at a very confused Jean. He jogged past her to the living room, turning the volume up. Jean raised her eyebrows in confusion at the sound of Sam exclaiming loudly.

"Hell yeah. Told you they'd score." Jean shook her head as she made her way into the living room behind him. She found football kind of interesting but Sam was very much into it. She glanced at the time, knowing she would need to leave soon. Before she said anything, she watched Sam as he ranted to her about the statistics of Giants defense and why Jean should commit to liking them as much as he did. She smiled, letting him go on. She really enjoyed his company. She really enjoyed his humor and comments and his approach to most all things. He kept her on her toes. It made her worried though. Sam was a great guy and handsome and if things were different, then maybe there could have been a different outcome or approach. But this wasn't possible… Jean never let Sam believe there was anything else… she would never want to hurt him. There weren't many people like him around and the world needed more of him.

"As much as this is THRILLING, I gotta go. Steve is going to be home soon and we have an early day tomorrow" Jean called as she went to go grab her wallet and phone. A tiny piece of Sam wanted to make her stay but he knew that he wasn't in a place to tell her what to do or make her…

"You know you can always call me if you need me." Sam said, walking her to his door. Jean nodded as she walked out onto his front steps.

"I know" she paused for a moment before walking down his stairs to her car. She glanced back at Sam before getting in her car, giving a brief wave before heading home. Sam stayed on his porch for a moment, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. He waited until her car lights disappeared off into the night before going back inside, unaware of a hostile pair of eyes glaring at him from the shadows.

"I just finished orientation in the infectious diseases ward, so." Jean heard a similar female say as she came down the hall She slowed down a bit to give Steve a chance to finish the conversation and also to eavesdrop a little.

"Ah, well, I'll keep my distance."

"Well hopefully not too far." Jean's eyebrows shot up as far as possible at Kate's comment, smirking mischievously. She could see the two faces turn red as they acknowledged her entrance.

"Oh hey Jean!" Kate rambled as Jean smiled and walked towards Steve.

"Hi Kate. How are you?"

"Good good… just… going to go finish laundry…" she mumbled a tad, making Jean glimpse over at a flushed Rogers before nodding towards the woman. Before Kate turned to go she looked back at the two friends.

"Oh, and I think one of you left your stereo on." she smiled nervously before scurrying off. Jean's eyebrows knitted together. She flashed him a look. She could hear the music coming from the direction of her apartment.

"Did you turn my music on?" Jean asked, feeling her body tense up. With an unspoken communication, Steve swiftly grabbed his shield, joining behind Jean. Jean shifted her eyes, feeling the warmth begin to spread across her body. Her apartment door creaked open slowly, the sound of Harry James and his trumpet echoing and vibrating against the walls and floors. Jean and Steve walked carefully forward, to the direction of her living room. In the darkness sat the silhouette of Fury. Jean left her eyes shifted, scanning the room.

"Fury?" Steve asked dubiously.

"I don't remember giving you a key." Jean exhaled, her body unable to relax…

"You really think I'd need one? My wife kicked me out." Fury scuffed, he blackness illuminating against his skin.

"Didn't know you were married." Steve stated. His shield up in defense and preparation.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me."

"I know, Nick. That's the problem." Steve sighed as Jean turned on the light. The two instantaneously noticed Fury's injuries for the first time. Fury looked like he had just been put through absolute hell. Before Jean and Steve could react, Fury motioned for silence, turning off the light. Fury inaudibly pulled out his phone, typing on it before showing the screen to the two of them. "**EARS EVERYWHERE" **Jean felt her hands heat up as she pulled her lips into a thin, slim line.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but I had no place else to crash." Fury typed on his phone again, "**SHIELD COMPROMISED"**

"Who else knows about your wife?" Steve asked with a steady tone. Fury typed again, showing another message, "**YOU TWO AND ME"**

"Just...my friends." Fury stated, an air of calmness about him.

"Is that what we are?" Jean asked, looking around. Jean heard something faint near her window, her hands immediately igniting. Something was not right. Fury stood, staying where he was.

"That's up to you." Fury continued. Before Jean could create a shield or respond, three shots rang through the night, hitting Fury in the back. Fury collapsed, gasping in agony. Jean ran to the window, both hands igniting fully. She created a shield of fire and protection as Steve dragged Fury to the next room. Fury reached up, shakily handing him a flash drive.

"Don't...trust anyone." Fury passed out. The sound of someone breaking into the apartment caused Jean to throw a fireball in the direction of the sound. Whoever it was yelped, peering around the corner.

"Captain Rogers? Captain Markette?" Jean and Steve see Kate walking in with her gun pointed. It appeared that Jean was right. She wasn't just… "Kate".

"Captain, I'm Agent 13 of SHIELD Special Service."

"Kate?"

"I'm assigned to protect you both"

"On whose order?"

"His." Kate rushes to Fury and begins to contact SHIELD through her radio.

"Foxtrot is down, he's unresponsive. I need EMTs."

"Do you have a twenty on the shooter?" Jean saw something move in the corner of her eye. She whipped her head around.

"I do" Jean snapped, immediately rushing forward, crashing through the window.

Her arms were in flame as she flung herself, flying herself to the roof. She hit the ground running, heart pounding, heat engulfing. She raced across the roof after this running assassin. He was fast, but she could be faster. She pushed herself forward with an extra flare, balling her hand into a fist as she jumped high, coming to a crashing contact with the person's back, making him stumble forward. She clung to his back, grabbing hold of his metal arm. As she began to heat the metal arm with her hand he quickly flung her off with force. This wasn't a normal person, this assassin had superhuman strength. She levitated herself with smoke to avoid crashing to the ground. Before she could react, the person cracked a heavy punch to face. She fell, back, dazed by the punch as the pain rippled through her face. She heard another set of feet pound as Steve joined in, throwing his shield at the assassin. The man caught it, his facial expression unrediable. He threw it at Jean, sending her back over the side of the building. She quickly balanced herself, flying back to the roof. He was gone. Steve rushed to her side as Jean landed on her feet.

"What the hell is going on?" She asked, looking off into the night sky.

"I have no idea" The two stood for a moment, processing what had happened. Something about this wasn't adding up. This person knew how to handle her…

"Shit" Jean cursed angrily, ignoring Steve's surprised expression at her outburst.

Jean stood silently, Fury's dead body laid out in front of him. Natasha, Steve and Mariah Hill shifted around the room. Jean could feel tears threaten to fall, a deep rage moving in her chest. Tears streamed down Natasha's face.

"I need to take him." Mariah whispers, causing Steve to go over to Natasha.

"Natasha." Steve asks gingerly. Natasha doesn't respond, touching Fury's head tenderly before turning and walking out briskly.

"Natasha!" Steve called, in hot pursuit of her. Jean followed, stoic and quiet.

"Why was Fury in your apartment?" Natasha snapped at Jean. Jean took a moment, knowing she would be too volatile if she spoke right back. Jean took a moment preventing her eyes from shifting.

"I don't know." Jean whispered, interrupted by Rumlow who suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

"Captain Rogers', Markette, they want you back at SHIELD." Jean raised her eyebrows, glaring at Rumlow.

"Yeah, give us a second." Steve warned.

"They want you now." Rumlow snapped. Jean's eyes shifted immediately as she moved to make a very irrational move, only to be stopped by Steve putting his arm out to stop her as she growled. Rumlow took a step back.

"Okay." Steve said, looking back to Natasha who had a sting in her eyes.

"You're a terrible liar." Natasha hissed before stalking off.

"STRIKE team, escort Captain Rogers and Captain Markette back to SHIELD immediately for questioning."

"Questioning?" Jean snapped as the man backed away. What the hell was going on? Everything she had been worried about for the past few weeks was coming at full force. Her thoughts traveled off to the assassin on the rooftop. Did this involve him.

"I told them."

"STRIKE, move it out."

"Ah, Captains. I'm Alexander Pierce." his slimy voice hissed out as the older man outstretched his hand to greet the two of them. Jean was tense as she studied the man.

"Sir, it's an honor." Steve spoke. He shot Jean a lot to respond.

"Sir" Jean's facial expression inscrutable.

"The honor is mine. My father served in the 101st. Come on in." Steve and Jean entered Pierce's office. Showing them an old photo of Fury with Pierce.

"That photo was taken five years after Nick and I met. When I was at State Department in Bogota. ELN rebels took the embassy, and security got me out, but the rebels took hostages. Nick was deputy chief for the SHIELD station there. And he comes to me with a plan. He wants to storm the building through the sewers. I said, "No, we'll negotiate." Turned out the ELN didn't negotiate, so they put out a kill order. They stormed the basement, and what did they find? They find it empty. Nick had ignored my direct order and carried out an unauthorized military operation on foreign soil. He saved the lives of a dozen political officers, including my daughter." Jean raised her eyebrows as Pierce looked at Steve. Something was off with him. Why would Fury say SHIELD was compromised? What would be compromised? Who was the assassin on the roof and why did she not fight harder?

"Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?" his words broke Jean from her thoughts. She stared at Pierce for a moment before responding.

"I don't know."

"You know it was bugged?" why was Pierce questioning the two of them, Jean thought as she looked at Steve.

"We did, because Nick told us." Steve responded. He could feel the heat radiating from Jean as she moved closer to him. Jean was a strong individual and if Jean was losing control over her heat, he knew she could sense something.

"Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it? I want you to see something." Jean's mind traveled off as she thought back to the first mission. The mission, Fury coming to her apartment, the assassination, the man. The mission, Fury coming to her apartment, the assassination, the man. The mission, Fury coming to her apartment, the assassination, the man… Jean's eyes widened as she looked out the window. Fury wouldn't have gone that far to assassinate himself. Someone within their right mind wouldn't go as far to assassinate themselves. **SHIELD is compromised.** Jean felt a sickness wash over her. She stared at Pierce. It would need to be someone high up, someone who could control many moving parts.

"Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?" Steve asked, looking at the expression on Jean's face.

"The prevailing theory was that the hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick's death."

"No" Jean stated grimly at the man. He was taken aback by her words almost as much as Steve. When Jean was on edge, her mind would begin to race and compute different outcomes of a situation at hand and although this was extremely helpful, it could make her reactions to certain triggers a lot more erratic.

"No. There was no sale. If you really knew Nick Fury you'd know that's not true." Jean clenched her jaw, a snarl threatening to display on her lips. Pierce looked back at Jean. He could feel that she was starting to catch on to the situation. He frowned. What a loss, he thought. He found it a shame she had caught on quicker. He didn't want to have her killed. She could be such a valuable asset, especially working alongside his other greatest asset. Rogers could go because he would be hard and Jean's weakness was his asset and he had to stop himself from grinning wildly at his own solemn pleasure. He took a moment, adjusting his tie. He pressed a button to send the signal to his Strike team.

"Why do you think we're talking? See, I took a seat on the Council not because I wanted to but because Nick asked me to, because we were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy and the handshaking and the rhetoric, that to build a better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. And that makes enemies. Those people that call you dirty because you got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today, makes me really, really angry. Captains, you were the last one to see Nick alive. I don't think that's an accident, and I don't think you do either. So I'm gonna ask again, why was he there?" this was a game that Jean knew he was playing.

"He told us not to trust anyone." Steve stated, looking back and forth between Pierce and Jean.

"I wonder if that included him." Jean scuffed, receiving a warning glare from Pierce who fixed his tie. Steve waited a moment before continuing.

"I'm sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse us." Steve placed a gentle hand under Jean's elbow, before the started out of the office. Before they could make it out Pierce's voice stopped them.

"Captains. Somebody murdered my friend and I'm gonna find out why. Anyone gets in my way, they're gonna regret it. Anyone."

"Understood." Steve and Jean swiftly made their way to the elevator.

"Operations control." Steve said looking at Jean. Jean let out an overdue exhale.

"Steve, remember when I said that we have to watch everything?"

"What did you…" the elevator door opened suddenly, Rumlow in mid speech as he entered with two Strike Agents.

"Keep all STRIKE personnel on site."

"Understood."

"Yes, sir."

"Forensics."

"Cap. Blaze" Jean sighed inwardly. She plastered a fake smile on her lips. Steve noticed the fake smile and took the que.

"Rumlow." Steve stated respectfully. The elevator doors closed and they start riding down.

"Evidence Response found some fibres on the roof they want us to see. You want me to get the tac-team ready?" Jean discreetly poked Steve's side.

"No, let's wait and see what it is first."

"Right." Steve notices one of the agents touching his weapon suspiciously. Jean notices as well as the elevator stops and more SHIELD and STRIKE agents enter. This was a set up.

"What's the status so far?"

"Administrations level."

"Confirmed."

"Excuse me." the agent moved past Jean, nodding.

"I'm sorry about what happened with Fury. Messed up, what happened to him." Rumlow stated out of the blue. Jean felt her heart rate pick up. She clenched her fist, her fingernails drawing blood. She needed to keep her eyes the same because the moment that she showed, she would give away that she was onto them.

"Thank you." Steve responded, feeling something is off. Steve and Jean looked at the agents in the elevator. Steve noticed one of them is sweating before the elevator stops and more agents enter.

"Records." As the elevator doors close, Steve and Jean both realize that they have been surrounded by agents. Jean stretches her neck, hearing it crack a little.

"Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?" She wrly quips. There is a moment's pause, Jean shifting her eyes and letting the suppressed heat overcome her.

One of the agents turned and used an electric rod to give Steve a shock, some of the others grabbed him and try to strap his wrists with magnetic cuffs. Two agents grabbed Jean, slamming her face first against the glass. Mistake one. Before they could electrocute her, she let out a loud growl as she used their grips to kick up her leg and smash the man in front of her back. She fired up her hands, setting the two men's hands on fire. They screamed in agony as she pushed off the wall, flipping one and fire punching the other. Steve had already managed to knock some of them down, in the process of knocking Rumlow out.

"It kind of feels personal." Steve snarkily responds back, checking Jean.

"You okay"

"Yes, but I don't think we are done yet" The elevator opens, Steve and Jean faced by a team of STRIKE agents pointing their weapons at both of them.

"Drop the shield! Put your hands in the air!" Jean throws her hands out, creating a wide enough protective shield around them as Steve quickly used his shield to break off the elevator wires. Jean's hair flew up as the elevator began flying down. Jean is able to slow it down with a forceful fire shove, melting the metal to prevent future falling. Steve forces the doors open as more STRIKE agents are fast approaching. Steve closes the door and looks for a way out.

"Give it up, Rogers, Markette! Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!" an agent screams from the otherside. Steve glances at Jean with a dubious smirk. Jean quickly realizes what he is suggesting.

"Steve… I'm still not the best with that."

"It's fine. I'm almost indestructible." Steve shrugged. Jean groaned, kneeling down.

"You might want to shield yourself" Steve nodded, backing into a corner and lifting his shield up.

"Got it, Captain" Jean took a deep breath in, kneeling as she let the heat energy build up inside of her. She let it overcome, drawing in smoke and fire, standing quickly, arms expanded, as she expelled this from her body to explode the glass.

pin/512354895109060574/

The glass exploded in the elevator, Steve and Jean diving out, plummeting down. Before Steve could hit the floor, Jean grabbed the back of Steve's shirt, straining as she pulled him up, flying him through the air. Pain rippled through her as she used everything inside of her to try not to hurt him with the hand she used to grip him. She flew him to the garage, to his bike. She landed hard after putting him down, screaming in pain. She took deep breaths, letting the fire circulate back to her right hand. Steve grabbed her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked as she regained her strength.

"Just a little rusty" she said out of breath. Steve jumped on his bike, nodding. Jean floated in the air, letting her fire run up her elbows as she flew beside Steve as they left the SHIELD garage. Steve evaded the obstacles laid out as she floated above him. A Quinjet emerges ahead of them.

"Stand down, Captain Rogers. Stand down." The Quinjet lowers its machine gun towards them.

"Repeat, stand down."

"Steve, be on my 6" she called as Steve nodded. Steve doesn't stop as the Quinjet started shooting at him. As Jean flew ahead of him she created a huge fire shield, bouncing the bullets back at the Quinjet.

"Pull up!" Steve yelled as Jean lifted high in the air, creating a widespread flare distraction for the pilots as Steve threw his shield into the Quinjet's propellers to jam it. This gave him an opportunity to hop up and fly towards the jet with an extra smoke shove from Jean. Jean used a flare boulder to shove the Quinjet over into the water as she flew quickly to grab Steve and fly him to the apartment.


	6. Chapter 6 Uncovering

**Chapter 6 Uncovering**

"You ready?" Steve asked, pulling his hoodie on. He noticed the trembling in Jean's hands. The flight back to the apartment was quick and there had only been enough time to grab clothes and leave. There was an abandoned gym that had working showers they broke into. They had to get into civilian clothes so they wouldn't be as detectable. Jean sighed as she thought back to different times, when everything wasn't so corrupt.

Jean was in pain, but it was easing up a little. Jean made it a point to not transform into full form Blaze because the come down was brutal and sometimes it took a long time to come down… her and Bruce were the same in this way. Regardless of how good she was, she didn't have complete control over Blaze. Her hair was drying from the shower, her body heating itself up so she could dry much faster. She let her damp hair fall down around her shoulders as she pulled her brown jacket on over her black t shirt. She wore fitted jeans and boots, something she could get dirty in and move. She pulled the hood up over her head.

"Yeah. Let's go" Jean walked past Steve, heading over to the door. Steve caught Jean's hand, stopping her. Steve knew that she wasn't okay. Although Jean was strong, her healing process was slower than his and she never let herself get to the Blaze. He knew that in times like these she used to go to Bucky but Bucky wasn't here. He knew she was too worried about him to vent but he wanted her to just take a moment.

"Jean… I'm not leaving your side" Steve said. Those simple words were what she needed to hear… it's what Bucky used to tell her when she would come down from transformation. Her heart rate decreased back into a normal rhythm. She squeezed his hand, nodding.

"I'm not leaving your side either"

They made their way discreetly back through the hospital, on a journey to retrieve the flash drive from the vending machine. She could tell the place was crawling with people who wouldn't hesitate to call Shield.

"Jesus Steve" Jean hissed as she didn't see the flash drive where he had left it. The popping of gum made Jean and Steve turn around. Natasha smirked, chomping on a piece of gum loudly. Jean frowned immediately, a warning that Natasha probably shouldn't be smirking. Before Steve could stop Jean, she had Natasha by the front of her shirt, shoving her back into an empty room, growling. Her eyes shifted as she slammed Natasha against the wall.

"Where is it?" Jean hissed, her face inches from Natasha.

"Safe."

"Do better!" Jean sneered angrily as Natasha pushed Jean off of her.

"Where did you get it?" Natasha retorted as Steve watched the two. Even though he could step in and probably should have now, they weren't exactly two individuals someone would want to get in between. He took a breath, knowing he had to press Nat.

"Why would we tell you?" Steve jumped in, putting an arm out to try and pull Jean back. Jean swiftly responded by pushing off his gesture.

"Fury gave it to you two. Why?" Natasha asked, aware of Jean's anger. Natasha knew that whatever was going on was enough that Jean was close to losing control.

"What's on it?" Steve asked urgently.

"I don't know."

"Stop lying!" Jean hollered as she took a step forward towards Natasha again.

"I only act like I know everything, Markette." Natasha said honestly to Jean. Jean took a step back, feeling guilty for having shoved her so hard. Jean shifted her eyes back to normal, letting her shoulders loosen. Jean had a tendency to tense everything from the waist up when trying not to shift.

"I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?" Steve asked, moving the conversation along.

"Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you." Natasha continued.

"I'm not gonna ask you again Natasha. Please." Jean whispered, strained. Natasha and Jean held eye contact for a moment, both reading the other before Natasha continued.

"Listen, I know who killed Fury. Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists, the ones who do call him the Winter Soldier. He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years." Jean raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"Oh. Of course" Jean scuffed, shaking her head.

"So he's a ghost story." Steve continued.

"Five years ago I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran, somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff, I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer, so he shot him straight through me. Soviet slug, no rifling. Bye-bye bikinis." Natasha revealed her scar. It had to be the same assassin that Jean had been rocked by on the roof. She still had a shiner under her left eye on her cheekbone. It was healing but being punched by a metal arm was a completely new experience she would try to avoid experiencing again.

"Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now." Jean sarcastically snapped. Natasha barely cracked a smile, but enough that made Jean relax.

"Going after him is a dead end. I know, I've tried." Natasha holds up the flash drive.

"You didn't try with me" Jean quipped, Natasha putting two and two together as she noticed Jean's black eye.

"Like you said, he's a ghost story." Steve took the flash drive from Natasha, holding it up.

"Well, let's find out what the ghost wants." Steve stated. Jean understood she could trust Natasha. There might be people out to get them, but Nat was not one.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked as the three rounded the corner in the car Steve had hot wired. Jean and the others were covered in sut, bruises and cuts from the explosion. Jean was more banged up than the other two from what had happened. She was not in a place to make herself heal quicker. Of course, she knew they needed to figure out what was on the flashdrive but really? That Zola asshole was still alive? Why can't some people just **DIE**. **HONESTLY**. Was it too much to ask? Focusing on the physical pain brought her away from the pain inside her mind. Everything she thought she knew, was a lie. The same people who had dared touch Bucky and her comrades and friends were still thriving. Steve and her had not only been putting their lives on the line for something they had not known was thriving, but the sacrifices that were… The car was silent as Natasha sat in the backseat. Jean felt more scared than she had in a very long time. She had an oversurgeance to protect those who she knew needed to be protected. She had a sickening feeling that there was so much more to be uncovered.

"Yes." Jean whispered shakily. Jean had absorbed more explosives than she had in a long time and it definitely had taken a toll on her body. She had burn marks on her neck, wrists, face, and entire body. She really shouldn't have absorbed the bombs the way that she did but she had to hide her and the others… Her clothes were ripped and charred, hanging off of her body. She shivered from the burns. Even though Steve tried making her shift her eyes so she could heal faster, she was caught in her mind.

Steve came to a stop as they got to the house. Jean limped as she got out of the car, making her way up the stairs. All the information they had received was overwhelming and Jean was stuck in her head in autopilot. She was angry and felt betrayed. How could she not have know about this? Who the hell was this 'Winter Soldier.' Jean knocked on the door hard, leaning against the frame. Her body ached. What the hell was the point of getting pumped up to be superhuman but still take hits like a normal person?

"Sam!" Jean yelled louder than she would have liked. Sam opened the door, his eyes widening a little at the sight of the three people in front of him. It suddenly made sense why Jean hadn't responded to his call about going for a run this morning..

"Hey guys" Sam said, looking at Jean grimacing in pain.

"I'm sorry about this. We need a place to lay low." Steve said warily.

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us." Natasha stated, staring back and forth between Jean and Sam. Natasha was confused and very amused as her thoughts raced about Sam and Jean. She thought, Why would Jean go to Sam? Sam paused a moment before replying.

"Not everyone." Without hesitation, questions, or protest, Sam dipped under Jean's arm, lifting her up bridal style, in one swift motion.

"I can help" Steve began as Sam looked over his shoulder.

"You need to take care of yourself too. I got her" Sam stated. Steve knew he was right but was taken aback by the fact that Jean was letting Sam carry her and help. Sam carried Jean off into the direction of his bedroom. Jean snorted weakly as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Are you really trying to take me to your bedroom right now. Watch it Wilson, I can still kick your ass" Jean joked, coughing a little. Sam rolled his eyes as he maneuvered with her through the door to the bathroom.

"Shut up Markette. Don't push it. I'll drop your ass" Sam quipped. Jean chuckled weakly as Sam placed her carefully down so she could lean against his bathroom sink. Now, Jean knew this was going to be an awkward situation. She needed help being changed and at this moment, she could swallow that it was Sam helping her. Steve would usually be the one to help but Steve was banged up too. He couldn't do everything, even though he would like to think he could. Sam turned on his shower, turning back to face Jean. She looked so human in this moment.

"So what did you do this time Sparky?"

"The whole, 'I don't know if I can trust the right side,' well, the 'right side' was actually the wrong side, big shocker by the way, and in a twist of unexpected events, a bad undercover agency was discovered that was under our noses the entire time and well, we got attacked and bombed and I had to do the whole absorption thing… AH!" Jean yelped wildly, throwing her head back in pain. She had tried to take off her t shirt but couldn't. She was angry to be in this much pain. Sam came over to her, reaching carefully as he gripped her t shirt and helped her pull it up over her head, the rest of the way. Sam looked off to the side to avoid staring at her exposed bra. Jean felt her face flush as she tried to change the subject.

"The harder you try not to look, it makes it seem like you want to" Jean wrinkled her nose as she unbuckled her pants. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Shut up Jean." She cried out a little as she tried leaning over to tug her pants off. Sam stopped her, leaning down in front of her. He gripped her pants, pulling them down, waiting as she lifted each foot separately.

"Don't enjoy this too much Markette. Might get the wrong idea" Sam joked with a smirk on his face to hide the fact he was trying to comprehend how this woman could possibly learn how to absorb the explosion from a bomb.

"Shut up Sam" Here Jean leaned against his counter, half naked, burned, bruised and cut everywhere. Sam shook his head, sadness washing over his face. He stood, looking at each mark, trying not to look at her chest, or lower regions. She was wearing a matching bra and panties set, which he didn't expect. Again, was he really supposed to be thinking about what she would wear underneath her clothing? .

"It will heal in two hours. I'll be fine in one" Jean tried making Sam feel better, wincing as she limped to the shower. Sam watched her, making himself turn to leave. Before he got far, he heard Jean call out to him. Sam walked back in, Jean clutching to the door of the shower, back facing him.

"I owe you, I am so sorry… I just… I can't reach the hooks" Jean whispered, completely ashamed by her lack of ability to take off her bra. Tears welled up in Jean's eyes. All of these gifts for what? To be this fragile?

Sam smiled gently, making his way over to her. There was something about her that could make this usually sarcastic, brass man melt into a gentle puddle. Sam took a moment, his clothed chest inches from her back. He reached his hands up to the clasp of her bra. He grazed her skin ever so gently, goosebumps breaking out across her spine.

She hadn't felt a man's touch on her bare skin in a very long time. Sam was successful unclipping it, carrying the remaining of her clothes out of the room without a comment. Jean leaned her head against the wall of the shower, wincing as the water stung her wounds. She watched the dirt and ash go down the drain, hot tears staining her cheeks while her mind wandering off.

_**Flashback**_

"_Look at me Theresa. LOOK AT ME" his voice yelled out as Jean floated in the air, her entire body transformed. Bucky knew she needed to shift back and had a blanket nearby to wrap her up and make her feel better. He knew she would be in agony for a little but he wouldn't leave her side. _

"_Theresa look at me. Please doll" Bucky's voice cracked. Jean slowly lowered. Bucky walked forward slowly approaching. His voice brought her back home, she could feel her body slowly become hers again, spasms breaking out over her, shaking as the agony of the heat overwhelmed her. She cried out as part of her wanted to fight against turning back, but his eyes guided her back. Through the flames, she could see his eyes, his __sad eyes__. _

_They had had a successful mission but there always seemed to be a cost for Jean. He understood that nobody knew how the serum would change Jean, and he knew that that Jean was an amazing soldier. She saved his life on so many accounts. But the pain he watched her go through enraged him. The sessions with Stark were helping, but sometimes he thought she was being used. It wasn't Peggy, the commandos, or Stark. It was that he thought the government saw her as property over being a human being. He wasn't a scientist, but if that Doctor was still alive, he questioned whether things would be different. Bucky wished he could make this better. He wished she could believe it, then maybe this wouldn't hurt so bad. In Bucky's mind, he knew that if she fully transformed and let go, that Jean would be okay. He believed in her, she just didn't believe in herself. _

"_Theresa. Let me make it better" he strained, reaching his hands out , taking another step towards her. _

_The flames began to turn to smoke, her eyes shifting back as her feet touched the ground. She was humiliated, as tears began to fall. As soon as she turned back completely, Bucky engulfed her by the blanket, pulling her into the safety of his arms. _

"_I have you doll. I have you" he whispered, kissing the side of her temple. She shook in his arms. _

"_I'm a monster" she whispered shakily. Bucky looked down in her eyes, at the woman he was so in love with. She didn't realize how much he loved her. _

"_No. You're not." he shook his head reassuringly, hoping she didn't see the tears welling up in his eyes. He placed a hand on the side of her warm face, running his thumb across her ashy cheek, the other wrapped around her body shuddered. She looked up into his eyes. She was vulnerable._

"_I'm not leaving your side." Bucky said as he lifted her face gently with his hand on her cheek, kissing her ever so tenderly. Jean kissed him back, giving him every last ounce of energy she could spare. He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers. The smoke from their breaths whisked up into the cold night air._

"_I'm not leaving your side either"_

**End of Flashback**

Jean's body finally began to heal as she finished getting dressed. She had extra clothes she had brought, having chosen to wear jeans, brown lace up boots, a plain black t shirt, a gray hoodie, a brown jacket, and had put her holster straps on her thigh. She needed to focus on the battle, not the emotions. She pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, a few strands falling out. A knock at the door made her look over at the door frame, Natasha leaning on it.

"Sam made breakfast." Jean nodded, tying up the rest of her boot laces before she stood.

"You okay?" Natasha asked genuinely.

"Yeah. You?" Jean asked, looking over at Nat. Nat smirked a little at the expression on Jean's face. Natasha knew that no matter how much Jean would get hit, she would get back up **ESPECIALLY** if someone was threatening the safety of the people Jean protected. When Jean was in this state of mind, her transforming somewhat into Blaze was not the problem. Even though Natasha has only seen Blaze a handful of times, it was intense and very impressive. Natasha felt bad for all those that had to face Jean in that state.

"Yeah"

"So, the question is: who in SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?" Natasha asked from the table. Jean leaned on the counter next to Sam, drinking down some of the cranberry juice he had gotten her. There seemed to form an unspoken rule that him seeing her half naked would not be brought up again and Sam didn't want to test her temper, even if he would have found that amusing.

"Pierce." Jean and Steve stated at the exact same moment.

"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world."

"He's not working alone." Jean spoke before taking a gulp of the juice.

"Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star." Steve continued, the details starting to add up.

"So was Jasper Sitwell." Natasha said through a mouthful of the apple she was very much enjoying.

"So, the real question is: how do the three most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?" Steve leaned against the table, trying to figure out a plan.

"The answer is: you don't." Sam spoke up as he moved towards the table and dropped a file down in front of Steve and Natasha. Jean raised her eyebrows, moving towards the table.

"What's this?"

"Call it a resume." Jean picked up a photo of Sam with his pararescue team after Natasha handed it to her.

"Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you." Natasha said surprised, looking from Sam, to Steve, to Jean. Jean looked over at Sam, mouth gaped open a little in surprise. She couldn't tell whether she was impressed or angry that he didn't tell her. Jean couldn't technically get mad, it wasn't like she told him everything.

"You didn't say he was a pararescue." Natasha continued. Jean picked up a photo of Sam and… Riley. Steve looked over Jean's shoulder at the photo.

"Is this Riley?" he asked, seeing that Jean didn't know about this information from her body language. Steve couldn't tell if Jean was upset with this or not.

"Yeah."

"I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use, a stealth chute?" Jean spoke up, looking directly in Sam's direction. Sam was holding another file, handing it to her.

"No. These." Jean opened the pilot, he eyes widened at what she was looking at. He wasn't a damn pilot. He was in the falcon program. He was a falcon. She looked up, shaking her head. Touché Sam Wilson. Touché.

"I thought you said you were a pilot." Steve said, a smile forming on his lips.

"I never said pilot." Jean snorted. Sam shot her a sheepish look. Jean looked at Natasha and Steve soon processing what they wanted to do. Jean's face contorted immediately.

"Oh come on guys, seriously?" Jean snapped, looking at them. Jean didn't want Sam to get involved. She didn't want Sam to get hurt. She had lost way too many people in this profession.

"I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason." Steve said, knowing that this would be hard for Jean. At the same time, Steve knew they needed Sam.

"Steve!" Jean glared at him, trying to hide the anxiety in her eyes.

"Dude, Captain America and Sparky needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in." Sam responded. Jean shook her head. She grabbed the cranberry, moving through the house, to the back porch. Jean leaned on deck, looking out into the world around her. She heard the door open behind her. She kept looking forward as Sam stood beside her.

"If you don't think I can…" Sam began, facing Jean.

"It's not that I don't think you can handle this because you can. I can't handle losing another person. Is that selfish? Probably" Jean sighed, studying Sam's facial expression. Even though it was kind of unreadable, there was a softness that replaced his usual smirking expression. She glanced back out, preparing herself for battle. It was one thing to mess with her and the people she loved back in the 40s. It was another thing entirely to still exist and try to mess with more people she cared for. Jean reached her hand out slowly, taking Sam's hand delicately.

Sam was stunned by this physical gesture. Jean had never touched Sam like this before. He held her hand like that for a moment, carefully running his thumb over her knuckles. Sam liked her hand in his, but knew this gesture was more than reassurance.

This moment was something she didn't share with just anyone. She knew she was an Avenger, she knew the people who she would lay her life down for. She was telling him that he was a part of her team now and that she would have his back. She would never let herself make the mistake again of what happened the day Bucky died. She retracted her hand, tightening the straps of her thigh holster.

"Strap up slow poke. Let's see if you can run with a few Avengers"


End file.
